THE  SWITZERLAND  OF  AMERICA. 


A  SUMMER  VACATION 


In  the  Parks  and  Mountains 


OF 


COLORADO. 


BY    SAMUEL    BOWLES, 
\\ 

AUTHOR  OF   "ACROSS   THE  CONTINENT. 


SPRINGFIELD,   MASS  : 

Samuel   Bowles   &   Company. 

NEW   YORK  : 

The  American  News  Company. 

BOSTON  : 

Lee  £    Shepard. 
1869. 


7.373; 


Entered  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1869,  by 

SAMUEL  BOWLES, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for 
the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


SAMUEL  BOWLES  AND  COMPANY, 

Electrotypers,  Printers  and  Binders, 

SPRINGFIELD,  MASS. 


THESE  letters  of  a  Summer  Vacation,  in  saddle  and 
camp,  among  the  great  Central  Parks  and  Mountains  of 
America  in  Colorado,  are  gathered  into  this  volume  in 
order  both  to  satisfy  and  stimulate  the  public  interest  in 
a  region  of  our  New  West  destined  to  a  peculiar  place 
in  the  future  of  America.  We  saw  enough  of  it  in  our 
stage  ride  across  the  Continent  in  1865  to  suggest  that  it 
would  become  the  Switzerland  of  America ;  Bayard  Tay- 
lor, a  wider  traveler  and  closer  observer,  made  a  more 
familiar  tour  in  1866,  and  more  formally  pronounced  the 
same  judgment ;  and  now,  after  a  new  visit,  and  an  inti- 
mate acquaintance  with  all  its  details,  we  find  our  original 
enthusiasm  more  than  rekindled,  our  original  thought 
confirmed. 

The  distinctive  physical  feature  of  Colorado  is  her 
wide  elevated  Parks,  lying  among  her  double  and  treble 
folds  of  the  continental  range  of  mountains — great  plains, 
like  counties  in  Illinois  and  Iowa,  or  states  in  New  Eng- 
land, six  thousand  to  nine  thousand  feet  above  the  sea- 
level,  surrounded  by  mountains  that  rise  from  three  to 
five  thousand  feet  higher ;  plains,  green  with  grass,  dark 
with  groves,  bright  with  flowers  ;  mountains,  dreary  with 
rocks,  white  with  snow.  The  distinctive  charm  is  the 
atmosphere,  so  clear  and  pure  and  dry  all  the  while,  as 


IV  PREFACE. 

to  be  a  perpetual  feeling,  rather  than  vision,  of  beauty  ; 
invigorating  every  sense,  softly  soothing  every  pain,  lend- 
ing a  glory  to  landscape  and  life  alike,  clothing  every 
feature  of  nature  with  beauty,  and  giving  the  eye  of  every 
spectator  the  power  to  see  it — -this  is  the  indescribable 
thing  that  lifts  Colorado  out  of  other  lackings,  and  more 
than  compensates,  in  the  comparison,  for  what  is  peculiar 
to  Switzerland. 

Here,  where  the  great  backbone  of  the  Continent  rears 
and  rests  itself;  here,  where  nature  sets  the  patterns  of 
plain  and  mountain,  of  valley  and  hill,  for  all  America ; 
here,  where  spring  the  waters  that  wash  two-thirds  the 
western  Continent  and  feed  both  its  oceans  ;  here,  where 
mountains  are  fat  with  gold  and  silver,  and  prairies  glory 
in  the  glad  certainty  of  future  harvests  of  corn  and 
wheat — here,  indeed,  is  the  center  and  the  central  life  of 
America, — fountain  of  its  wealth  and  health  and  beauty.* 
Switzerland  is  pleasure  and  health;  Colorado  is  these 
and  use  besides — the  use  of  beauty,  and  the  use  of  profit- 
able work  united.  I  beg  every  traveler  by  the  Pacific 
Railroad  not  to  "  pass  it  by  on  the  other  side ; "  for,  in  so 

doing,  he  would  offend  the  best  that  is  in  him. 

s.  B. 

SPRINGFIELD,  MASS.,  ) 
February ',  1869.         ) 


LETTERS. 


Page. 
I.    THE  PACIFIC  RAILROAD, 7 

II.    To  DENVER  AND  THERE, 28 

III.  THE  GEOGRAPHY  OF  COLORADO, 39 

IV.  TRAVEL  AMONG  THE  MOUNTAINS, 49 

V.    EXPERIENCES  IN  THE  MIDDLE  PARK, 65 

VI.  FROM  THE  MIDDLE  PARK  BY  BOULDER  PASS,    .    .    80 

VII.    OVER  GRAY'S  PEAK  TO  SOUTH  PARK, 92 

VIII.    SOUTH  PARK  AND  MOUNT  LINCOLN, 108 

IX.  AN  INDIAN  SCARE — THE  TWIN  LAKES,    ....  120 

X.    FROM  TWIN  LAKES  TO  DENVER, 131 

XL    MINES,  MINING  AND  MINERS, 145 

XII.  THE  AGRICULTURE  OF  COLORADO  :   CONCLUSION,  .  157 


COLORADO: 

Its  Parks  and  Mountains. 
i 

I. 

THE    PACIFIC    RAILROAD. 

The  Contrast  of  1865  and  1868— Vice-President  Colfax,  Governor 
Bross  and  their  Summer  Vacation  Party — Chicago  and  the  Ride 
thither— The  Pullman  Cars  of  the  West— From  New  York  to 
San  Francisco  without  Leaving  the  Car — West  from  Chicago — 
Council  Bluffs  and  Omaha — Across  the  Plains  by  Railroad — 
Cheyenne — Up  the  Mountains — The  Charms  of  Scenery  and 
Atmosphere — Railroad  Cities,  their  Rise  and  Fall — How  the 
Railroad  is  built — Back  to  Cheyenne. 

ON  THE  DIVIDE  OF  THE  ATLANTIC  AND  PACIFIC  OCEANS,  ) 

August,  1868.      > 

TO-DAY  the  Pacific  Railroad  climbs  over  the  line 
that  separates  the  waters  of  the  oceans.  We  sit 
astride  the  crest  of  the  continental  mountains,  and 
see  the  last  rail  on  the  Atlantic  slope  and  the  first 
on  the  Pacific  fastened  down.  It  is  an  era  in  our 
lives,— it  is  an  era  in  our  national  life.  Three  years 
ago,  the  Pacific  Railroad  was  hardly  commenced, — 
not  a  rail  was  laid  this  side  of  the  Missouri  River ; 
now  there  are  eight  hundred  miles  of  iron  track 


8  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

from  that  river  west ;  on  the  other  side  from  the 
Pacific  Ocean  east,  six  hundred  miles  are  laid  ;  and 
early  in  1869, — while  you  are  reading  these  pages, 
my  friend, — the  Continent  will  be  spanned,  and  the 
cars  will  run  from  ocean  to  ocean.  Only  the  energy 
of  a  Republic  could  perform  such  a  work  in  so  brief 
a  time. 

Three  summers  ago,  our  little  party  of  four  per- 
s€>ns  were  ten  days  and  nights  in  stages  in  reaching 
this  point  from  the  Missouri  River ;  now  our  larger 
party  of  a  dozen  have  been  swept  up  hither  in  a 
day  and  a  half  from  Omaha,  and  two  days  and  a 
half  from  Chicago.  Another  year  the  journey  from 
Boston  to  San  Francisco,  that  then  occupied  a  full 
month,  will  be  compassed  in  a  single  week.  Divid- 
ing the  across-the-continent  trip  into  thirds,  this 
.crest  of  the  mountains  is  two-thirds  the  way  from 
the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific.  Chicago  is  twelve 
hundred  miles  from  Boston  ;  here  we  are  twelve 
hundred  miles  from  Chicago  ;  and  about  the  same 
distance  from  San  Francisco  in  the  other  direction. 

Our  summer  vacation  party  to  these  central 
mountains  of  our  New  West  is  the  outgrowth  of 
the  excursion  that  Speaker  Colfax  led  across  the 
Continent  In  1865.  Now  as  then  he  is  the  central 
figure.  Governor  Bross  of  Illinois  comes  next,  now 
as  then  the  favorite  of  the  crowds  that  gather  at 
every  stopping  place  for  a  speech,  and  the  leader  in 
all  our  enjoyments.  We  miss  one  of  the  original 
four ;  but  new  recruits  and  the  ladies,  then  denied 
us,  carry  up  our  numbers  to  near  a  dozen.  Chicago 
is  the  gathering-point ;  there  the  Old  West  culmi- 


COLORADO  :     ITS    PARKS   AND    MOUNTAINS.          9 

nates,  and  the  New  West  begins.  Soon  she  must 
cast  her  lot  with  the  East, — for  westward,  indeed, 
the  star  of  empire  takes  its  way ;  but  for  the  sea- 
son, she  sits  in  the  center  of  railway  commerce, 
East  and  West,  and,  motherly  and  queenly  both, 
broods  benignantly  over  the  Continent. 

Whether  you  come  west  to  Chicago  by  Erie  or 
New  York  Central,  by  Pittsburg  and  Fort  Wayne, 
by  Michigan  Southern  or  Michigan  Central,  leaving 
at  the  same  hour,  you  are  swept  into  Chicago  at 
the  very  same  moment.  The  thousand  mile  jour- 
ney is  run  on  either  route  to  one  schedule  of  time. 
Passengers,  who  part  at  the  supper  table  at  Roches- 
ter, bow  to  each  other  out  of  the  rival  car  windows 
twenty-four  hours  later  at  the  junction  of  the  two 
Michigan  roads  in  the  outer  suburbs  of  Chicago ; 
while  those,  who  bade  each  other  good-bye  in  New 
York  twelve  hours  earlier,  race  along  side  by  side 
on  the  Fort  Wayne  and  Michigan  Southern  roads, 
through  the  slaughter-house  and  bone-boiling  ad- 
jacencies of  the  great  city  of  the  North-west,  to 
their  neighboring  station-houses. 

It  seems  strange  that  in  this  new  and  rough 
West  of  ours,  where  the  fight  is  fresh  with  all  the 
elements  of  nature,  and  ease  and  luxury,  if  not  de- 
spised, at  least  are  generally  postponed,  there  should 
be  more  comfortable  and  luxurious  accommodations 
for  railway  travel  than  anywhere  else  in  the  world. 
Yet  it  is  so.  Europe  and  the  Atlantic  states  pro- 
vide on  none  of  their  railways  as  yet  so  elegant  and 
ease-giving  carriages  as  the  saloon  and  sleeping 
and  refreshment  cars  that  are  offered  to  travelers 
i* 


IO  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

on  the  long  routes  of  the  West.  They  are  the  in- 
vention of  Mr.  George  W.  Pullman,  who  has  thus 
associated  his  name  forever  with  one  of  the  great- 
est improvements  in  railway  travel.  Some  are  pro- 
vided with  kitchen  and  larder,  and  will  furnish  at 
any  hour  a  meal  that  rivals  Delmonico;  and  the 
traveler  can  leisurely  eat  breakfast  or  dinner  from 
his  own  little  private  table,  as  the  train  sweeps 
along  at  the  rate  of  twenty  or  thirty  miles  an  hour. 
Their  broad,  luxurious  seats  or  sofas  by  day  are 
turned  at  night  into  generous  beds  with  clean  linen 
and  close  curtains  if  you  would  have  them.  The 
ventilation  is  perfect ;  the  freedom  from  dust  and 
cinders  only  tolerably  so  ;  but  the  chief  limitation 
is  in  the  way  of  toilette  accommodations.  One 
disposed  to  abandon  himself  or  herself  to  privacy 
and  much  water  in  this  respect  chafes  solnewhat 
at  the  common  corner  and  wash-bowl  and  single 
looking-glass,  however  elegant  and  cleanly ;  but 
when  a  dozen  to  forty  people  undertake  to  keep 
house  for  three  days  or  a  week  in  a  single  car, 
there  must  be  some  sacrifices  of  fastidiousness  to 
the  spirit  of  travel.  That  the  Pullman  car  de- 
mands so  few  is  the  wonder. 

These  cars  are  owned  by  companies  distinct  from 
the  railroads,  and  added  to  the  trains  of  the  latter 
by  special  arrangements.  Additional  charges  are 
made  to  passengers  who  occupy  them,  varying  with 
the  amount  of  room  and  service  taken,  but  about 
on  a  par  with  the  prices  of  first-class  hotels  for  lodg- 
ings and  meals.  To  enjoy  their  comforts  to  the  full, 
a  party  of  a  dozen  or  twenty  should  charter  the  ex- 


COLORADO  I     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.        1 1 

elusive  use  of  one  ;  and  when  the  continental  pleas- 
ure travel  to  the  Pacific  sets  in  next  year,  this  will 
be  a  very  common  fashion.  Starting  from  Boston, 
New  York,  Niagara,  or  Chicago,  in  your  Pullman 
parlor,  dining-room  and  bed-room,  with  servants 
to  attend  to  all  wants,  the  journey  to  San  Francisco 
may  be  made  with  a  degree  of  comfort  and  luxury, 
unequalled  heretofore  in  all  the  dreams  of  travel, 
and  without  necessarily  leaving  the  car  from  the 
beginning  to  the  end  of  the  three  thousand  mile 
ride.  Such  a  company  and  such  a  car  were  ours 
from  Chicago  to  the  present  end  of  the  Railroad  and 
back,  and  four  days  of  more  comfortable  and  en- 
joyable travel — while  half  a  continent  of  plain  and 
mountain  and  river  was  unrolled  before  us — can 
hardly  be  imagined.  A  little  house  organ  was 
built  into  the  side  of  our  car,  and  by  its  aid  we 
kept  time  to  the  music  of  nature  as  we  rolled  over 
the  prairie  and  up  the  hills  to  the  crest  of  the  con- 
tinental mountains. 

From  Chicago  to  Omaha,  where  is  the  beginning 
of  the  Pacific  Railroad  proper,  is  five  hundred 
miles,  across  Northern  Illinois  and  through  Central 
Iowa,  by  the  Chicago  and  North-western  Railway, 
and  crossing  the  Mississippi  River  midway.  Two 
more  roads,  lower  down  in  Illinois  and  Iowa,  will  be 
done  next  year — those  by  Rock  Island  and  Burling- 
ton— and  give  Chicago  and  Omaha  three  connecting 
lines,  and  all  nearly  direct.  St.  Louis,  also,  has  a 
railroad  connection  with  Omaha  by  the  road  down 
the  Missouri  River  to  St.  Joseph  and  Kansas  City, 
meeting  at  both  points  lines  across  Missouri  to  its 


12  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

commercial  city.  In  fact,  this  puts  Omaha  and  the 
Pacific  Road  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  miles 
nearer  to  St.  Louis  than  to  Chicago ;  but  Chicago 
is  more  than  that  farther  east. 

Though  but  a  new  country,  for  most  of  our  way, 
from  Chicago  to  Omaha,  we  were  rarely  out  of  sight 
of  the  golden  stubble  of  wheat  or  the  rich  green 
of  waving  cornfields.  The  wonder  is  constant  alike 
at  the  richness  of  the  soil,  the  beauty  of  the  rolling 
prairie,  the  abundance  of  the  harvests,  the  rapid 
settlement  and  cultivation  of  the  country, — where 
all  the  people  came  from,  and  where  all  the  grain 
and  hay  they  grow  goes  to. 

Council  Bluffs  in  Iowa  and  Omaha  in  Nebraska 
are  one  in  inspiration  and  growth  ;  but  the  muddy 
Missouri  rolls  between,  and  makes  them  nominal 
rivals.  Both  are  having  a  rapid  development,  and 
must  be  great  towns.  The  roads  from  the  North, 
South  and  East,  to  connect  with  the  Pacific  Road, 
must  all  center  at  Council  Bluffs.  The  wide 
meadow — three  to  five  miles  wide — between  the 
bluffs  and  the  river  will  be  intersected  with  their 
tracks,  and  thickly  planted  with  their  depots,  ancl 
peopled  with  their  dependents.  Three  roads — 
north  to  Sioux  City,  south  to  St.  Joseph  and  St. 
Louis,  east  to  Chicago — are  already  here ;  two 
more  will  come  next  year ;  and  in  ten  years  as 
many  lines  will  center  at  this  point.  Already 
Council  Bluffs  has  eight  thousand  inhabitants,  and 
she  added  thirteen  hundred  buildings  last  year. 
The  older  and  more  attractive  parts  of  the  town 
lie  back  on  the  bluffs  and  in  the  wooded  ravines 


COLORADO:   ITS  PARKS  AND  MOUNTAINS.      13 

among  them — a  winning  location,  where  healthful- 
ness  and  beauty  appear  combined/and  where  will 
gather  the  real  resident  population  of  Council  Bluffs. 
Omaha  rises  more  directly  and  symmetrically 
from  the  opposite  bank  ;  its  bluffs  or  plateaus  sweep 
up  sharply  from  the  water,  and  circle  around  in  a 
grand  amphitheatrical  form, — somewhat  as  Spring- 
field lies  to  the  Connecticut  River;  you  see  its 
majesty  of  location  and  its  wide-spreading  improve- 
ments at  a  glance ;  the  operations  of  the  Pacific 
Road,  of  which  it  is  the  beginning  and  the  head- 
quarters, have  given  it  almost  feverish  development; 
and  it  already  holds  a  population  of  fifteen  thousand 
to  seventeen  thousand.  But  with  such  rich  con- 
junction of  water  and  railway  communication ; 
with  the  river  at  its  feet,  navigable  to  the  Roqky 
Mountains,  north  and  west,  and  to  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico,  south — two  thousand  miles  in  either  direc- 
tion ;  with  the  workshops  and  head-quarters  of 
the  great  Railroad  of  the  Continent  within  its  terri- 
tory, and  all  the  lines  from  the  East  and  North 
and  South  centering  before  and  around  it,  to  make 
their  connections  and  transhipments ;  with  a  State 
back  of  it  certainly  as  large  and  as  rich  in  agricul- 
tural wealth  as  any  in  the  great  West, — Omaha 
surely  need  feel  no  misgiving  as  to  the  future,  but 
may  proudly  accept  her  destiny  as  one  of  the 
great  interior  cities  of  the  nation.  Directly,  a 
bridge  will  be  raised  over  the  river  to  Council 
Bluffs,  and  then  passengers  and  merchandise  can 
go  back  and  forth  in  the  same  cars  that  they  came 
in  from  New  York  or  Sacramento. 


14  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

Now  out  upon  the  grand  continental  Railroad 
into  the  ocean  of  the  Plains.  It  is  five  hundred 
miles  to  the  base  of  the  central  mountains  ;  up  an 
imperceptible  but  steadily  ascending  grade  of  ten 
feet  to  the  mile  ;  and  for  nearly  the  whole  distance 
along  by  the  wide  but  shallow,  fierce  but  fallow 
Platte  River,  which,  gathering  in  the  melted  snows 
of  all  this  slope  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  sweeps 
across  the  wide  plains, — that,  one  day,  by  dams  and 
ditches,  it  is  destined  to  fertilize  for  miles  on  each 
side  and  make  its  wilderness  to  blossom  as  the 
rose, — and  carries  the  grand  tide  into  the  Missouri 
below  Omaha.  For  two  hundred  miles,  Nebraska 
is  slashed  by  cross  rivers,  tributaries  of  Platte  or 
Missouri ;  the  land  lies  in  long,  beautiful  rolls ; 
timber  is  in  tolerably  good  supply ;  and  the  soil  is 
as  fertile  as  any  in  the  West.  The  climate  is  well- 
balanced  ;  oats,  corn  and  wheat  yield  as  richly  and 
as  of  fine  quality  as  in  any  state  in  the  Union  ; 
and  the  rapid  growth  and  great  wealth  of  Nebraska 
are  the  surest  things  in  our  future.  Hardly  any 
state  in  the  Mississippi  and  Missouri  valleys  has 
larger  capacities.  The  settlement  of  her  first  two 
hundred  miles  west  from  the  Missouri  is  surpris- 
ingly rapid ;  well-cultivated  farms  are  rarely  out  of 
sight ;  and  the  population  has  certainly  trebled  in 
this  three  years'  interval  of  our  visits. 

This  limit  passed,  the  prairie  roll  ceases ;  timber 
and  side-streams  are  no  more  seen ;  the  dead  level 
of  the  Plains  fills  the  eye ;  relieved  only,  twenty 
to  thirty  miles  north  and  south,  by  the  faint  line  of 
low  bluffs,  and  a  scant,  irregular  growth  of  cotton- 


COLORADO:   ITS  PARKS  AND  MOUNTAINS,      15 

woods  along  the  line  of  the  Platte  itself  But  the 
grass  is  strong  and  green ;  the  soil  laughs  at  the 
old  nickname  of  the  great  American  desert;  here, 
at  least,  is  pasturage  unbounded, — wheat,  too,  I  be- 
lieve, without  irrigation,  and  with  irrigation  every- 
thing. But  the  first  results  of  the  Railroad  are  to 
kill  what  settlement  and  cultivation  these  plains  had 
reached  under  the  patronage  of  slow-moving  em- 
igration, stage-travel,  and  prairie-schooner  freight- 
age. The  ranches  which  these  supported  are  now 
deserted  ;  the  rails  carry  everybody  and  everything ; 
the  old  roads  are  substantially  abandoned ;  the  old 
settlers,  losing  all  their  improvements  and  opportu- 
nities, gather  in  at  the  railway  stations,  or  move 
backwards  or  forwards  to  greater  local  develop- 
ments. They  are  the  victims,  in  turn,  of  a  higher 
civilization ;  they  drove  out  the  Indian,  the  wolf, 
and  the  buffalo ;  the  locomotive  whistles  their  occu- 
pation away;  and  invites  back  for  the  time  the 
original  occupants. 

The  day's  ride  grows  monotonous.  The  road  is 
as  straight  as  an  arrow.  Every  dozen  or  fifteen 
miles  is  a  station, — two  or  three  sheds  and  a  water- 
spout and  woodpile  ;  every  one  hundred  miles  or 
so  a  home  or  division  depot,  with  shops,  eating- 
house,  "  saloons  "  uncounted,  a  store  or  two,  a  few 
cultivated  acres,  and  the  invariable  half  a  dozen 
seedy,  staring  loafers,  that  are  a  sort  of  fungi  in- 
digenous to  American  railways.  The  meals  are 
abundant  and  good, — breakfast,  dinner  and  supper 
each  the  same  as  the  other,  and  only  apt  to  be  un- 
certain in  bread  and  butter.  We  yawn  over  the  un- 


16  A    SUMMER   VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

changing  landscape  and  the  unvarying  model  of  the 
stations,  and  lounge  and  read  by  day,  and  go  to  bed 
ear.ly  at  night.  But  the  clear,  dry  air  charms  ;  the 
half  dozen  soldiers  hurriedly  marshalled  into  line 
at  each  station  as  the  train  comes  up,  suggest  the 
Indians ;  we  catch  a  glimpse  of  antelopes  in  the 
distance ;  and  we  watch  the  holes  of  the  prairie 
dogs  for  their  piquant  little  owners  and  their  tra- 
ditional companions  of  owls  and  snakes, — but  never 
see  the  snakes.' 

Fremont  (46  miles  from  Omaha)  and  Columbus 
(91)  are  the  most  considerable  and  promising  settle- 
ments of  Nebraska  on  the  line  of  the  road.  The 
latter  disputed  the  political  capital  with  Omaha,  but 
Lincoln,little  more  than  a  paper  town  as  yet,  and  off 
the  railway  line,  has  won  it  from  both.  Old  Fort 
Kearney,  200  miles  out,  a  representative  of  the  old- 
time  life  of  the  Plains,  is  fading  away.  The  chief 
stations  of  the  Railroad,  so  far,  are  Grand  Island  (153 
miles),  North  Platte  (291),  Sidney  (414),  Cheyenne 
(516),  and  Laramie  (5/2).  Julesburg,  last  year  so 
lively  a  settlement,  and  at  one  time  before  an  impor- 
tant military  post,  is  now  abandoned  altogether, — a 
few  log  and  board  shanties  and  turf  huts  are  all  that 
remain  of  its  former  high  uncivilization.  Cheyenne 
alone  takes  on  the  air  of  permanency  and  feels  the 
hopes  of  promise.  After  "  Hell,"  as  the  end  town 
of  the  Railroad  has  been  appropriately  called,  moved 
on,  it  was  a  serious  question  with  her  whether  to  be 
or  not  to  be, — whether  she  was  anything  or  noth- 
ing. The  problem  seems  to  be  solved  in  her  favor. 
She  stands  at  the  end  of  the  Plains,  at  the  begin- 


COLORADO  :     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.        I  / 

ning  of  the  Mountains  ;  the  Railroad  must  have  im- 
portant shops  here  ;  it  is  the  point  of  divergence 
for  Colorado  to  the  South,  and  the  Railroad  to  Den- 
ver connects  with  the  main  line  here, — ultimately 
the  Kansas  or  St.  Louis  Pacific  Railroad  will,  as 
Congress  has  ordered,  make  its  connection  by  this 
branch  ;  a  fine  agricultural  country  surrounds,  feed- 
ing the  mountains  beyond, — altogether  material 
enough  to  make  a  permanency  of  Cheyenne.  She 
has  now  three  or  four  thousand  inhabitants,  who 
are  settling  down  into  reasonable  soberness  and 
serious  work  ;  three  daily  papers  struggle  for  sup- 
port ;  several  good  church  buildings  are  erected  or 
erecting ;  brick  and  stone  are  supplanting  canvass 
and  rough  boards  as  building  materials ;  and  taverns 
and  restaurants  and  stores  well  respond  to  all  hu- 
man appetites  and  needs  and  tastes.  Though  the 
town  is  six  thousand  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea, 
it  lies  on  an  open  prairie  country,  and  the  moun- 
tains are  only  dimly  discernible  in  the  distance.  It 
is  the  principal  settlement  of  the  new  territory  of 
Wyoming,  but  so  near  Colorado,  that  the  latter 
territory  covets  and  half  claims  it. 

Now  the  road  grows  more  interesting.  We  do 
not  enter  mountains,  except  in  fancy, — they  have 
been  levelled  for  our  track ;  but  the  plain  ascends 
rapidly ;  the  debris  of  the  old  mountains  stand 
around  in  fantastic  shapes ;  the  forms  of  the  remain- 
ing mountains  rise  vast  and  majestic,  blue  and  white 
and  black,  in  the  far  distance,  north  and  south ;  in 
thirty-two  miles  the  track  ascends  over  two  thou- 
sand feet,  but  so  uniformly  is  the  rise  distributed 


1 8  A    SUMMER   VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

that  at  no  point  is  the  grade  above  eighty  feet  to 
the  mile ;  and  at  Sherman  or  Evans's  Pass,  we  are 
eight  thousand  two  hundred  and  sixty-two  feet 
above  the  sea  level — the  highest  point  in  the  whole 
line  of  the  Pacific  Railroad,  yet  the  crest,  not  of 
the  main  or  continental  range  of  mountains,  but 
of  its  eastern  line  of  "  Black  Hills,"  so  called.  Out 
of  narrower  plain,  free  from  these  ruins  of  the  old 
mountains,  down  a  thousand  feet  or  so,  the  road 
next  enters  upon  and  crosses  the  wide  Laramie 
Plains ;  a  trifle  sheltered,  yet  open  to  sharp  suns 
and  long,  piercing  breezes,  and  selected  for  their  va- 
rious attractions  for  the  summer  homes  of  the  rail- 
road officials.  These  were  famous  hunting-grounds 
of  the  Indians ;  agreeable  resting-places  for  the 
emigrant  caravans  of  old ;  and  long  the  chief  out- 
post of  the  army  in  the  mountain  region. 

All  this  section  of  the  road  for  one  hundred  and 
fifty  miles  west  of  Cheyenne  possesses  the  greatest 
novelty  and  charm  for  the  traveler.  The  senses  all 
dilate  with  what  is  spread  before  and  around  him ; 
rich  black  mountains  bound  the  horizon  north  and 
south ;  a  dash  of  snow  on  peak  or  side  occasionally 
enlivens  the  view  and  deepens  the  coloring ;  along 
your  pathway  are  fine  valleys  or  broader  plains, 
rich  in  grass  and  flowers ;  nature  has  fashioned  it 
for  a  railroad ;  scattered  around  in  valley  or  plain, 
as  the  track  approaches  the  summit,  are  monu- 
ments of  rock,  grotesquely  or  symmetrically  ar- 
ranged ;  here  a  wall  as  if  for  a  bulwark,  there  the 
ruin  of  cathedral  or  fort,  again  a  half-finished  build- 
ing, anon  the  fashion  of  a  huge,  dismasted  screw 


COLORADO  :     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.        IQ 

steamer,  with  paddle  astern  and  pilot-boat  ahead ; 
over  all  an  atmosphere  so  pure  that  the  eye  seems 
to  take  in  all  space,  and  so  dry  and  exhilarating 
that  life  titillates  at  every  avenue,  and  we  mount 
as  if  on  angel's  wings.  Here  would  seem  to  be 
the  fountain  of  health  ;  and  among  these  hills  and 
plains  is  surely  to  be  many  a  summer  resort  for  the 
invalid  and  the  pleasure-seeker  in  the  by  no  means 
distant  future.  The  hills  have  timber,  though  the 
plains  are  bare  of  it,  and  the  water  runs  pure  and 
bright,  and  carries  trout  in  abundance,  as  plains 
and  mountains  give  deer,  mountain  sheep,  antelope 
and  grouse.  This  whole  wide  pathway  up  and  over 
the  mountains  seems  to  have  been  fashioning  for  its 
present  use  for  ages.  The  hills  have  wasted  into 
plain ;  those  solid  walls  of  feldspar  and  granite  dis- 
integrated and  dissipated  into  a  fine  gravel,  that  is 
the  very  perfection  of  a  railway  bed ;  while  these 
"buttes"  or  monuments  of  remaining  rock,  that  lie 
scattered  about  with  such  picturesque  effect,  are  all 
that  are  left,  the  very  kernel,  so  to  speak,  of  what 
was  once  but  a  close  succession  of  real  rocky  moun- 
tains— a  Pelion  upon  Ossa  that  forbade  passage  to 
wheel  of  wagon  or  car. 

But  the  next  section  of  one  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  is  a  sad  contrast.  The  charms  of  atmosphere 
and  of  distant  mountains  remain;  but  the  green 
grass,  the  flowers,  the  pure  water,  the  oases  of 
trees,  all  depart,  and  we  have  a  dreary  waste  of  sage 
bush,  a  barren,  alkali,  dusty  soil,  little  water,  and 
that  bitter  and  poisonous.  This  is  the  Bitter  Creek 
country,  so  horrible  to  slow  emigrant  travel, .  so 


2O  A    SUMMER   VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

painful  to  stage  passengers.  The  eye  has  no  joy, 
the  lips  no  comfort  through  it;  the  sun  burns  by 
day,  the  cold  chills  at  night ;  *the  fine,  impalpable, 
poisonous  dust  chokes  and  chafes  and  chaps  you 
everywhere.  It  is  within  this  region  that  my  letter 
is  dated,  and  that  the  track  crosses  the  continental 
divide.  Rolling  hills  abound,  but  no  mountains. 
The  track  winds  easily  along;  but  a  water  train 
has  to  be  added  to  the  usual  supply  trains,  and  the 
expense  of  construction  is  greatly  increased  by 
the  distance  which  all  material  and  all  food  and 
drink  have  to  be  drawn.  Deep  wells  will  in  the 
future  relieve  the  poverty  and  poisonousness  of 
the  surface  water,  whose  alkali  elements  not  only 
render  it  unfit  for  drink  but  impossible  of  use  in 
the  boilers  of  the  engines. 

Spite  of  the  obstacles,  however,  the  tra-ck  marches 
on  with  magic  rapidity.  Ten  to  fifteen  thousand 
men  are  at  work  on  the  grading  of  the  three  hun- 
dred miles  between  this  point  and  Salt  Lake  valley. 
Following  the  completion  of  their  work  come  the 
gangs  of  track-layers  with  their  supply  trains.  First 
the  ties  or  sleepers,  brought  up  from  below  or  out 
of  the  neighboring  hills,  and  carried  several  miles 
ahead  of  the  train  by  innumerable  mule  teams. 
Then  rails  and  spikes  are  transferred  to  platform 
cars  and  pushed  up  to  the  end  of  the  track ;  and 
by  help  of  horse  and  a  dozen  practiced  men,  work- 
ing like  automatons  with  brains,  the  iron  lengths 
are  dropped  in  place,  spiked  down,  the  car  rolled 
over  them,  the  work  repeated,  and  again  and  again, 
at  the  rate  of  from  three  to  eight  miles  a  day, — the 


COLORADO:   ITS  PARKS  AND  MOUNTAINS.     21 

only  limit  yet  found  being  the  power  of  the  com- 
pleted road  to  bring  up  sleepers  and  rails  to  the 
supply  trains  of  the  contractors.  The  gangs  of 
track-layers  number  in  all  from  four  hundred  to  five 
hundred  ;  are  picked  men ;  live  on  the  train  or  in 
tents  which  the  train  brings  along  as  the  track  pro- 
gresses ;  and  are  fed  by  the  contractors  in  so  good 
a  style  that  no  apologies  were  necessary  in  inviting 
our  party  of  ladies  and  gentlemen  to  dine  with 
them,  and  no  hesitation  felt  on  our  part  in  accept- 
ing, nor  any  repentance  at  having  accepted.  It 
was  one  of  the  "squarest"  meals  of  our  whole  trip 
so  far. 

For  a  few  weeks  now,  Benton,  in  this  Bitter  Creek 
country,  is  the  end  of  the  open  road,  and  here  pas- 
sengers and  freight  going  west  are  transhipped,  and 
here  are  temporarily  gathered  that  motley  crew  of 
desperadoes,  outcasts  and  reckless  speculators,  that 
are  following  the  road's  progress,  and  rioting  in  the 
license  and  coarseness  of  unorganized  society.  It 
is  a  most  aggravated  specimen  of  the  border  town 
of  America,  not  inaptly  called  "  Hell  on  Wheels," 
and  unknown  to  all  other  civilizations  or  barbarisms. 
One  to  two  thousand  men,  and  a  dozen  or  two 
women,  are  camped  on  the  alkali  plain  in  tents  and 
board  shanties  ;  not  a  tree,  not  a  shrub,  not  a  blade 
of  grass  visible  ;  the  dust  ankle  deep  as  you  walk 
through  it,  and  so  fine  and  volatile  that  the  slightest 
breeze  loads  the  air  with  it,  irritating  every  sense 
and  poisoning  half  of  them  ;  a  village  of  a  few  va- 
riety stores  and  shops,  and  many  restaurants  and 
grog-shops  ;  by  day  disgusting,  by  night  dangerous  ; 


22  A    SUMMER   VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

almost  everybody  dirty,  most  filthy,  and  with  the 
marks  of  lowest  vice ;  averaging  a  murder  a  day  ; 
gambling  and  drinking,  hurdy-gurdy  dancing  and 
the  vilest  of  sexual  commerce,  the  chief  business 
and  pastime  of  the  hours, — this  is  Benton.  Like  its 
predecessors  on  the  track,  it  fairly  festers  in  cor- 
ruption, disorder  and  death,  and  would  rot,  even  in 
this  dry  air,  should  it  outlast  a  brief  sixty-day  life. 
In  a  few  weeks,  its  tents  will  be  struck,  its  shanties 
razed,  and  with  their  dwellers  will  move  on  fifty  or 
a  hundred  miles  farther  to  repeat  their  life  for  an- 
other brief  day.  Where  these  people  came  from 
originally;  where  they  will  go  to  when  the  road  is 
finished,  and  their  occupation  is  over,  are  both  puz- 
zles too  intricate  for  me.  Hell  would  appear  to 
have  been  raked  to  furnish  them  ;  and  to  it  they 
will  naturally  return  after  graduating  here,  fitted  for 
its  highest  seats  and  its  most  diabolical  service. 

Beyond  this  one  hundred  and  fifty  mile  section 
of  desert  country,  that  marks  the  divide  between 
the  waters  of  the  two  oceans,  the  road  crosses 
Green  River  and  enters  upon  the  descent  into  the 
Salt  Lake  basin.  The  country  here  changes  rap- 
idly ;  it  is  broken  by  mountain  ranges,  and  coursed 
by  fresh  rivers ;  and  every  way  becomes  most  in- 
teresting to  the  traveler,  and  most  difficult  for  the 
railroad  constructor.  The  section  from  Green  River 
to  the  Salt  Lake  valley  is  the  hardest  part  of  the 
whole  line  of  the  Union  Pacific  Road  to  build ; 
heavy  rock  cuttings  and  embankments,  sharp 
curves,  and  tunnels  are  necessitated ;  yet  there 
is  nothing  in  it  all  so  serious  and  expensive  as  the 


COLORADO  I     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.       23 

work  on  the  line  of  the  railroads  through  and  over 
the  Alleghany  Mountains,  or  worse  than  that  the 
Boston  and  Albany  Railroad  encountered  west  of 
Springfield.  The  traveler  will  find  pleasure,  how- 
ever, where  the  contractors  met  labor ;  the  wonder- 
ful Church  Butte,  the  charming  high  valley  region 
about  Fort  Bridger,  the  narrow,  ^rock-embraced 
canyons  or  gorges  of  Echo  and  Weber,  the  white- 
capped  Wasatch  Mountains, — all  will  awaken  his 
enthusiasm  and  wonder,  and  lead  him  down  to  the 
settlements  and  civilization  of  the  Mormon  saints 
in  a  frame  of  pleasurable  and  curious  excitement. 
He  will  need  all  its  stimulus,  however,  to  carry  him 
contented  over  the  new  and  wider  desert  country 
that  the  road  will  yet  take  him,  along  and  beyond 
the  Humboldt  valley,  through  northern  Nevada, 
and  on  to  the  now  double-welcome  glories  of  the 
Sierra  Nevadas.  And  here  upon  the  threshold  of 
California,  we  leave  him  to  find  his  own  way. 

Everybody  inquires  how  the  Pacific  Railroad  is 
built  ?  Well  or  ill — as  faithful  as  fast — befitting  or 
betraying  the  royal  endowment  of  the  American 
people  ?  A  monosyllable  will  not  answer  the  ques- 
tion. Well,  with  a  qualification  ;  ill,  with  a  qualifi- 
cation. As  well,  certainly,  as  new  roads  are  gen- 
erally built  in  America — better  surely  than  the 
North-western  Road  is  built  across  Iowa.  As  well, 
too,  as  is  consistent  with  such  speed.  The  ties  are 
plenty,  a  third  thicker  at  least  than  is  usual  in  the 
East ;  the  rails  as  good  as  the  Pennsylvania  iron 
consciences  and  poverty  will  permit ;  and  the  ad- 
justments all  faithfully  made  and  by  competent 


24  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

workmen.  I  could  wish  the  bed  had  been  thrown 
up  a  foot  higher  across  the  Plains,  to  escape  the 
flood  of  possible  heavy  rains  and  the  drift  of  snows ; 
long  sections  are  certainly  imperfectly  ballasted,  or 
not  at  all ;  wooden  bridges  and  culverts  need  to  be 
rebuilt  with  stone  ;  tressle-work  should  be  replaced 
by  embankments  ;  and  embankments  need  widen- 
ing ;  many  curves  and  circles  should  be  cut  across, 
the  line  straightened  and  shortened  ;  and  grades 
lowered  or  evened  up.  But  the  builders  agree  as 
to  all  this,  except  perhaps  the  hight  of  the  bed 
across  the  Plains,  and  are  proceeding  with  the  im- 
provements and  reconstructions  as  fast  as  the 
greater  necessity  for  pushing  on  to  the  end  will 
permit  them.  The  only  dispute  there  can  be  is  as 
to  the  degree  or  extent  which  these  completions  and 
reconstructions  are  necessary  or  should  be  required. 
The  road  has  been  and  will  be  such  a  mine  of 
wealth  to  its  owners,  they  should  be  held  by  public 
and  government  to  a  strict  performance  of  all  their 
obligations, — they  should  give  us  in  return  for  our 
gifts  of  money  and  land  and  privilege  a  thoroughly 
first-class  road  in  every  respect.  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  exacting  security  for  the  perfection,  they 
should  be  allowed  generous  time-to  do  it  in.  The 
materials,  stone,  ballasting  and  timber,  for  all  the 
work  required,  are  upon  the  line ;  and  when  the  rush 
of  progress  is  over,  and  the  road  opened  through, 
then  the  work  of  bringing  up  every  part  and 
every  detail  to  perfection  should  be  insisted  upon 
by  the  one  party,  and  cheerfully  executed  by  the 
other.  Self-interest  invites  the  managers  to  this 


COLORADO  :     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.        25 

fidelity  ;  they  have  found  the  road  most  profitable 
to  build ;  they  are  likely  to  find  it  as  profitable  to 
own  and  run ;  and  dependent  as  they  must  largely 
be  upon  the  favor  of  public  opinion  and  the  protec- 
tion and  care  of  the  government,  aside  from  the 
necessity  of  having  the  road  in  thorough  condition 
fdr  its  safe  and  profitable  use,  they  will  see  how 
desirable  it  is  they  should  leave  no  cause  for  com- 
plaint in  the  condition  and  management  of  the 
property. 

No  internal  improvement  was  ever  so  generously 
endowed, — none  was  ever  so  wonderfully  built. 
The  government  bounty  was  voted  in  ignorance  of 
the  difficulties  and  cost  of  the  work.  They  have 
proven  much  less  than  was  expected.  The  entire 
road  from  the  Missouri  River  to  the  Pacific  Ocean 
is  about  one  thousand  seven  hundred  miles  long. 
The  California  company  builds  six  hundred  miles, 
the  New  York  company  about  one  thousand  one 
hundred,  and  the.ir  junction  is  near  Salt  Lake, 
Congress  voted  sixteen  thousand  dollars  govern- 
ment bonds  per  mile  of  plain  country ;  thirty-two 
thousand  dollars  per  mile  of  more  difficult  territory ; 
and  forty-eight  thousand  dollars  per  mile  of  the 
higher  and  rougher  mountains  passed  over ;  and  it 
also  authorized  the  companies  to  issue  mortgage 
bonds  of  their  own  to  equal  amounts,  which  should 
take  precedence  in  security  of  the  government 
bonds.  From  one-half  to  two-thirds  of  the  entire 
line  is  probably  through  "plain"  country,  yet,  from 
a  mixture  of  deception  and  ignorance,  only  about 
one-third  was  so  counted.  The  average  govern- 


26  A   SUMMER   VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

ment  grant  was  thirty  thousand  dollars  a  mile,  and 
the  companies'  first  bonds,  which  have  found  ready 
sale,  just  doubled  this  sum  as  the  cash  provision  for 
the  construction  of  the  road,  or  sixty  thousand  dol- 
lars per  mile.  But  the  actual  cost  has  not  probably 
been  over  half  this,  or  not  far  in  excess  of  the  gov- 
ernment grant  alone, — certain-ly,  with  equipment, 
it  will  not  average  -over  forty  thousand  dollars  per 
mile.  This  would  leave  a  net  cash  profit  on  the 
building  and  opening  of  the  road  of  thirty-four 
millions  dollars.  But,  back  of  all  this,  the  compa- 
nies have  the  capital  stock  of  the  road,  and  own 
half  the  lands  for  a  width  of  twenty  miles  along 
their  tracks.  There  never  was  such  a  gigantic 
speculation  on  the  American  continent  at  least; 
and  it  is  safe  to  predict  that  no  other  railroad  will 
ever  win  such  largess  from  the  government  as  this 
has. 

To  snow  how  deceived  or  mistaken  the  govern- 
ment agents  were  in  the  character  of  the  work  to 
be  done,  the  trailer  only  need'to  look  at  the  one 
hundred  and  fifty  miles  of  road  west  from  Chey- 
enne, and  remember  that  this  is  the  section  for 
which  they  allowed  the  highest  price  of  forty-eight 
thousand  dollars  a  mile  as  heavy  mountain  work. 
In  fact,  it  is  about  as  fine  a  country  to  build  a 
railroad  through  as  lies  on  the  face  of  the  globe. 
It  is  one  long,  inclined  plane,  with  a  fine,  disinte- 
grated granite  for  its  soil,  worked  by  plow  and 
scraper,  and  affording  the  solidest  and  most  per- 
manent road  bed  that  exists  in  America.  Only  a 
few  hills  had  to  be  cut  through,  or  embankments 


COLORADO  :     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.        2/ 

made,  or  streams  crossed.  The  California  company 
had  no  such  rich  streak  of  luck  as  this  ;  their  forty- 
eight  thousand  dollars  a  mile  section  was  grievously 
heavy  mountain  work,  over  the  rough  and  broken 
Sierra  Nevadas,  requiring  heavy  rock  cuttings  and 
many  tunnels.  But  they  had,  to  make  up  for  it,  no 
"plain"  or  sixteen  thousand  dollars  a  mile  track  at 
all ;  it  was  all  forty-eight  thousand  dollars  and 
thirty-two  thousand  dollars  a  mile,  while  many  of 
their  miles  were  as  easy  to  build  as  the  line  across 
the  Plains  of  the  eastern  section. 

But  no  matter  now !  Only  by  such  appeal  to 
cupidity  have  we  got  this  continental  roadway 
opened  so  soon, — a  gift  to  our  nationality,  to  our 
commerce,  to  our  wealth,  that  is  worth  in  five  years 
more  than  it  all  cost.  And  now  if  the  gigantic 
corporations  that  own  and  use  it  will  but  let  our 
politics  alone,  give  the  country  faithful  service  and 
at  a  fair  price,  and  spend  some  of  their  profits  in 
opening  branch  lines  to  Montana,  Idaho,  and  Ore- 
gon, we  will  gladly  give  them  welcome  to  their  for- 
tunes, and  cry  quits. 

The  path  and  the  profits  of  the  Pacific  Railroad 
are  likely  to  be  for  some  time  fresh  subjects  in  our 
American  lives,  and  so  justify  this  long  letter  about 
them.  We  turn  back  the  track  to  Cheyenne,  and 
thence  follow  the  mountains  down  to  Denver  to 
begin  our  real  Summer  Vacation  in  Colorado. 


II. 

TO    DENVER   AND    THERE. 


Where  the  Mountains  Lie — The  Stage  Ride  from  Cheyenne  to 
Denver — Scenes  in  the  Stage-Coach  at  Night — Meals  on  the 
Road — How  Denver  Looks — Its  Growth,  Attainments,  and 
Prospects — The  Mountain  View  from  the  Town — Denver  and 
Salt  Lake  City  Rivals  in  Beauty  of  Location  and  Attraction  for 
Travelers. 

DENVER,  Colorado,  August,  1868. 

IT  is  the  old  story  over  again — the  railroads  do 
not  show  you  the  best  of  the  country.  Their  tracks 
run  through  the  back  yards  in  towns,  and  away 
from  the  hills  and  among  the  barren  wastes  of  the 
interior.  You  no  more  see  the  Rocky  Mountains 
in  riding  over  the  Pacific  Railroad  than  you  do  New 
York  in  going  through  the  Fourth  Avenue  tunnels, 
or  Springfield  in  steaming  by  the  mechanic  shops 
and  restaurants  of  Railroad  Row.  Nature  graded 
a  grand  pathway  for  the  locomotive  across  our  Conti- 
nent ;  the  mountains  fall  back  to  the  right  of  us  and 
to  the  left  of  us, — so  far  away  that  we  catch  only  the 
dim  outline  of  their  greatness, — leaving  but  here 
and  there  a  quaint  ruin  of  or  majestic  monument 
to  her  mighty  labor,  that  civilization  may  go  by 
steam  from  ocean  to  ocean.  The  great  mountain 
center  of  the  Continent  lies  below  the  present  rail- 


COLORADO  :     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.        2Q 

road  line ;  it  looms  up  in  the  distance  'at  Cheyenne ; 
it  marches  along  the  southern  horizon  as  you  sweep 
up  and  across  the  magnificent  Laramie  Plains  ;  it 
cheers  you  through  the  rolling  alkali  dust  of  the 
Bitter  Creek  country;  and  it  shoots  its  spurs  in 
beauty  and  in  power  before  you,  as  you  seek,  more 
slowly,  a  descending  path  into  the  Salt  Lake  basin. 
But  would  you  behold  it  in  all  its  majestic  grandeur, 
its  multiplied  folds  of  hight,  with  fields  of  ice  and 
snow  and  rock,  its  beauty  of  infinite  form  and  color, 
its  wealth  of  flora  and  its  wealth  of  gold  and  silver, 
—all  the  grand  landscape  and  the  hidden  promise 
of  the  finest  mountain  region  that  the  world  holds, — 
then  you  must  switch  off  from  the  main  road,  and 
come  into  the  heart  of  Colorado,  which  is  the  very 
heart  of  our  western  Continent. 

Bear  in  mind,  too,  thal/the  great  Pacific  Railroad 
does  not  touch  Colorado.  It  goes  a  few  miles 
above  the  northern  border.  A  branch  road  is  now 
building  from  the  main  track  at  Cheyenne  down  to 
Denver,  the  capital  and  focal  point  of  the  state. 
While  waiting  for  that  to  be  finished,  next  year,  we 
travel  this  one  hundred  miles  in  a  six-horse  coach. 
If  we  could  do  it  all  by  daylight,  nothing  could  be 
more  pleasant.  The  road  lies  across  the  last  fifty 
miles  of  the  Plains, — through  high  rolling  green 
prairies,  cut  every  fifteen  or  twenty  miles  by  a 
vigorous  river,  with  border  of  rich  and  cultivated 
intervale,  and  line  of  trees  marking  its  progress  from 
mountain  debouch  to  the  slow-sinking,  wide-reach- 
ing horizon, — to  the  right  the  grim  mountains  with 
towering  tops  of  rock  and  snow, — to  the  left  the  un- 


3O  A   SUMMER   VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

ending  prairie  ocean,  with  only  an  occasional  cabin 
and  scattered  herd  of  cattle  to  break  its  majestic 
solitude  and  indicate  human  settlement;  there  is 
such .  magnificent  out-doorness  in  the  continuous 
scene  as  no  narrower  or  differently  combined  land- 
scape can  offer,  and  so  long  as  the  day  lasts  it  is  a 
thing  of  beauty  and  of  joy.  But  it  is  a  twenty  hours' 
ride,  and  the  stage  arrangements  make  a  night  of  it. 
And  in  stage-riding  it  is  peculiarly  true  that  it  is  the 
first  night  that  costs.  It  is  more  intolerable  than  the 
combination  of  the  succeeding  half-dozen,  were  the 
journey  prolonged  for  a  week ;  the  breaking-in  is 
fearful, — the  prolongation  is  bearable.  The  air  gets 
cold,  the  road  grows  dusty  and  chokes,  or  rough  and 
alarms  you ;  the  legs  become  stiff  and  numb,  the 
temper  edges;  everybody  is  overcome  with  sleep, 
but  can't  stay  asleep, — the  struggle  of  contending 
nature  racks  every  nerve,  fires  every  feeling ;  every- 
body flounders  and  knocks  about  against  everybody 
else  in  helpless  despair ;  perhaps  the  biggest  man 
in  the  stage  will  really  get  asleep,  which  doing 
he  involuntarily  and  with  irresistible  momentum 
spreads  himself,  legs,  boots,  arms  and  head,  over 
the  whole  inside  of  the  coach;  the  girls  screech, 
the  profane  swear;  some  lady  wants  a  smelling 
bottle  out  of  her  bag  and  her  bag  is  somewhere  on 
the  floor, — nobody  knows  where, — but  found  it  must 
be ;  everybody's  back  hair  comes  down,  and  what 
is  nature  and  what  is  art  in  costume  and  character 
is  revealed, — and  then,  hardest  trial  of  all,  morning 
breaks  upon  the  scene  and  the  feelings, — everybody 
dirty,  grimy,  faint,  "all  to  pieces,"  cross, — such  a 


COLORADO:   ITS  PARKS  AND  MOUNTAINS.     31 

disenchanting  exhibition!  The  girl  that  is  lovely 
then,  the  man  who  is  gallant  and  serene, — let  them 
be  catalogued  for  posterity,  and  translated  at  once, — 
heaven  cannot  spare  such  ornaments ;  and  they  are 
too  aggravating  for  earth. 

Every  ten  miles  we  stop  to  change  horses,  and 
the  driver,  night  or  day,  signalizes  the  approach  to 
a  station  by  a  miniature  war-whoop,  that,  as  the 
Bostonians  say  of  their  great  organ,  "must  be  heard 
to  be  appreciated," — it  is  certainly  rather  startling 
to  new  ears.  Every  thirty  miles  or  so,  a  "  home  " 
station'  and  a  "  square  meal."  Dinner,  supper  and 
breakfast  are  all  alike,  and  invariably  generous  and 
good,  more  uniformly  so,  indeed,  than  those  along 
the  railroad  line  from  Chicago  to  the  mountains. 
We  missed  willingly  some  of  one  sort  of  "  home  " 
stations,  that  we  encountered  out  here  three  years 
ago  in  the  "Across  the  Continent"  ride, — single- 
roomed  turf  cabins,  bare  dirt  floors,  milkless  coffee, 
rancid  bacon,  stale  beans,  and  green  bread,  and  "if 
you  don't  like  these,  help  yourself  to  mustard ; " 
but  we  welcomed  heartily,  at  the  Laporte  station, 
where  is  the  most  of  a  village  on  the  road,  our  old 
host  and  hostess,  with  whom  the  Indians  then  pre- 
vailed on  us,  in  their  charming  fashion,  to  pass  a 
sweet  and  silent  Sunday  in  their  little  retreat  of 
Virginia  Dale  park  in  the  mountains  on  the  old 
r0ad, — lady  and  gentleman  now  as  then  by  diviner 
gifts  than  those  of  milliner  or  tailor.  It  was  pleas- 
ant to  see  they  had  prospered,  and  got  out  among 
neighbors,  where  Indian  raids,  of  which  they  had 
survived  no  fewer  than  eight  in  their  solitary  Dale 


32  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

station,  now  abandoned,  were  less  threatening ; 
pleasant  to  have  the  ladies  confirm  the  picture  in 
"Across  the  Continent"  on  comparison  with  the 
original ;  pleasantest  of  all,  perhaps,  to  find  she  had 
not  forgotten  our  weakness  for  good  victual.  Those 
sup  well  who  sup  with  our  heroine  of  Virginia  Dale, 
and  if  they  would  have  especial  grace  and  greeting, 
let  them  prove  acquaintance  with  the  "Colfax  party." 
The  Vice-President  often  dwells  on  "  the  two 
kinds  of  welcome,"  and  it  was  the  other  kind  that 
we  met  at  the  next,  eating-place.  Our  stage  was 
an  "  extra,"  and  "  ran  wild,"  and  so  came  along  un- 
awares. It  was  a  trifle  rough,  therefore,  to  rouse  a 
lone  woman,  at  one  o'clock  in  the  night,  to  get  us 
some  supper  or  breakfast, — whichever  you  choose 
to  call  it  She  could  do  it,  she  said,  but  she  didn't 
quite  like  to.  But  who  could  resist  the  gallant  Vice- 
President,  whether  pleading  for  ballot  or  breakfast ; 
or  the  offers  of  help  from  the  ladies ;  or  the  final 
suggestion  of  the  driver  ?  She  wavered  at  the  first ; 
the  second  operated  as  a  challenge  to  her  capacity ; 
and  the  third  was  irresistible.  There  is  no  king  on 
his  route  like  a  stage  driver, — he  has  a  "dreadful 
winning  way"  with  him,  both  for  horses  and  women. 
The  philosophy  of  it  I  do  not  understand,  but  the 
fact  is  universal  and  stubborn;  he  is  the  successful 
diplomat  of  the  road ;  no  meal  can  be  begun  till  he 
is  in  place ;  and  there  are  no  vacant  seats  where  he 
drives, — even  the  cold  night  air  would  not  send  our 
girls  off  his  box,  and  inside,  during  this  long  ride. 
So,  at  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  we  sat  down  to 
beef  and  ham  and  potatoes,  tea  and  coffee,  bread 


COLORADO  I     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.        33 

and  butter,  pies,  cakes  and  canned  fruits, — not  even 
the  edges  of  the  "  squareness  "  of  the  meal  rubbed 
off,  and  good  humor  everywhere. 

We  cross  the  rivers  Cache-a-la  Poudre,- — which 
indicates  that  some  Frenchman  deposited  his  pow- 
der here  aforetime, — St.  Vrains,  Big  Thompson, 
Little  Thompson,  Boulder,  Clear  Creekr  and  finally 
the  South  Platte,  to  which  all  the  others  are  tribu- 
tary ;  and,  having  left  Cheyenne  at  ten  o'clock  in  the 
forenoon,  gay  and  aggressive,  v/e  are  tumbled  out 
of  the  stage  at  Denver  at  eight  the  next  morning, 
feeble  and  flabby,  hungry  and  humble,  with  a  dread- 
ful "morning  after "  feeling  and  appearance  and 
movement  about  us. 

But  the  air  of  Denver,  both  inside  and  outside 
the  houses,  is  very  recuperating;  we  were  soon 
toned  up,  and  began  to  look  about  us.  The  town 
has  spread  out  and  settled  down  a  good  deal  within 
three  years.  Things  look  less  brisk,  but  more  sub- 
stantial and  assured.  The  town  "feels  its  oats"  less 
and  its  dignity  more.  It  has  passed  its  hot  and 
fickle  days,  when  gamblers  reigned,  and  "to  be  or 
not  to  be"  was  the  everlasting  question  that  fretted 
everybody  who  owned  real  estate,  and  with  which 
they,  in  a  sort  of  your-money-or-your-life  manner, 
assaulted  every  stranger  the  moment  he  got  out  of 
the  stage.  Now,  though  trade  is  dull,  and  I  have 
seen  but  one  fight  since  I  came  to  town,  the  Den- 
verites  all  wear  a  fixed  fact  sort  of  air,  and  most  of 
them  are  able  to  tell  you,  in  a  low  and  confidential 
chuckle,  calling  for  envy  rather  than  sympathy, 
that  they  own  a  quarter  section  just  out  there  on 

2* 


34  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

the  bluff,  to  which  the  town  is  rapidly  spreading, 
and  where  the  capitol  buildings  and  the  fine  resi- 
dences will  all  be  located,  or  a  few  corner  lots  down 
near  the  river,  where  the  mills  and  the  factories  are 
destined  to  rise  in  the  near  future.  Long  lines  of 
brick  stores  already  give  permanent  and  prosper- 
ous air  to  the  town ;  its  dry  and  its  wet  rivers  are 
both  newly  bridged ;  irrigating  ditches  scatter  water 
freely  through  streets,  lawns  and  gardens,  and  now 
flowers  and  fruits,  trees  and  vegetables  lend  their 
civilizing  influences  and  their  permanent  attractions 
to  the  place ;  national  banks  emit  their  greenbacks 
and  will  "do"  your  little  note  most  graciously  at 
from  one  to  two  per  cent  a  month  and  "a  grab 
mortgage"  behind  it;  Episcopal  Bishop  Randall 
from  Boston  has  established  an  excellent  school 
for  girls;  the  Catholics  have  a  larger  educational 
establishment ;  the  Methodists  have  the  handsom- 
est church  and  wear  the  best  clothes ;  the  Baptists 
and  Congregationalism  are  lively  and  aggressive; 
the  stores  are  closed  Sundays ;  the  nights  are  quiet 
and  the  police  have  a  sinecure ;  free  schools  are  or- 
ganized ;  and  three  daily  papers  and  two  independ- 
ent weeklies  are  published  in  the  town.  Kitchen 
girls  are  scarce  and  a  dear  luxury,  with  pay  at 
fifty  dollars  to  seventy-five  dollars  a  month ;  but 
the  consequence  is  that  the  cooking  is  excellent, 
and  people  live  " first  rate."  The  dwelling-houses 
are  mostly  small,  a  single  story  or  a  story  and  a 
half,  but  within  are  comforts  and  luxuries  in  abun- 
dance, and  one  house  boasts  a  true  Van  Dyke. 
The  emigrant  and  the  traveler  must  "move  on"  by 


COLORADO  :     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.        35 

Denver  if  he  would  get  beyond  the  organization 
of  the  best  American  social  and  intellectual  life. 

I  see  I  have  spoken  of  Denver's  "dry  river," 
which  calls  for  a  parenthetical  paragraph  in  expla- 
nation. The  South  Platte  sweeps  around  the  lower 
part  of  the  town,  broad  and  turbulent,  of  certain 
volume  but  uncertain  track,  useless  for  navigation 
but  excellent  for  irrigation ;  but  more  sharply 
through  the  center  of  the  business  section  lies 
Cherry  Creek,  now  a  broad  bottom  of  dry  sand, 
and  only  occasionally  enlivened  with  any  water. 
For  years  after  the  founding  of  .the  town,  none 
appeared  in  its  bed,  and  supposing  it  to  have 
been  deserted  altogether,  the  people  builded  and 
lived  in  the  bottom.  Stores,  shops  and  dwellings, 
streets  and  blocks  appeared  there ;  it  was  the  heart 
of  the  town ;  the  printing  office  was  there,  also  the 
city  records ;  but  of  a  sudden,  after  a  heavy  rain, 
there  came  a  flood  pouring  down  the  old  river  bed, 
not  gradually  and  in  rivulets,  to  warn,  but  a  full- 
blown stream  marched  abreast  with  torrent  force 
and  almost  lightning  speed,  reclaimed  its  own,  and 
swept  everything  that  had  usurped  its  place  into 
destruction.  Since  then,  the  people  have  paid  re- 
spect to  Cherry  Creek;  at  some  seasons  of  the 
year  there  is  still  a  little  water  in  its  sands,  but  for 
the  most  part-  it  is  dry  through  the  town ;  but  no- 
body builds  in  the  bed,  and  bridges  over  its  path 
pay  tribute  to  what  it  has  been  and  may  b€  again. 
Farther  up  its  line,  there  is  water  in  it  now;  but 
the  sands  consume  and  an  irrigating  ditch  seduces 
it  all  away  before  it  reaches  the  limits  of  the  city. 


36  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

Her  central  location,  under  the  mountains,  in  the 
Plains  section  of  the  state,  gives  Denver  a  fine  cli- 
mate the  year  through  ;  is  favorable  for  trade  to  all 
parts  of  the  state  ;  secures  to  her  the  outgo  and  the 
income  of  the  mining  districts ;  makes  her  also  the 
chief  market  for  all  the  productions  of  the  farming 
counties,  and '  the  focal  point  for  all  travel  to  and 
from  the  mountains,  as  well  as  north  to  the  Railroad, 
and  south  to  New  Mexico ;  and  endows  her  with 
a  scene  of  mountain  panoramic  beauty,  one  hundred 
miles  long,  now  touched  with  clouds,  now  radiant 
with  sunshine,  then  dark  with  rocks  and  trees,  again 
white  with  snow,  now  cold,  now  warm,  but  always 
inspiring  in  grandeur,  and  ever  unmatched  by  the 
possession  of  any  other  city  of  Europe  or  America. 
The  finest  views  of  these  mountains  are  obtained 
farther  out  in  the  Plains,  where  the  more  distant 
peaks  come  into  sight,  and  the  depth  and  variety,  as 
well  as  the  hight  and  beauty  of  the  range,  are  real- 
ized ;  and  wider  and  older  travelers  than  I, — who 
have  seen  the  Cordilleras  of  South  America  from 
the  sea,  as  well  the  Alps  from  Berne, — join  in  the 
judgment  that  no  grand  mountain  view  exists,  that 
surpasses  this,  as  seen  from  the  high  roll  of  the 
prairie  just  out  of  Denver,  and  over  which  the  town 
is  fast  spreading,  and  so  on  from  twenty  to  forty 
miles  farther  east.  The  one  point  of  .grandest  view 
is  located  at  the  last  "home  station"  on  the  Smoky 
Hill  rofcd,  about  thirty-five  miles  east  from  Denver, 
and  along  which  the  St.  Louis  Pacific  Road  will 
probably  be  built  another  year. 

With  these  charms  of  climate  and  landscape,  with 


COLORADO  I     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.        37 

a  settled  and  intelligent  and  prosperous  population 
already  of  four  thousand  to  five  thousand,  with  busi- 
ness connections  and  facilities,  social  order  and  at- 
tractions, religious  and  educational  institutions,  all 
well  organized,  and  fed  by  their  own  interior  force, — 
growing  from  within  out,  and  not  simply  by  fresh 
importations  of  eastern,  material, — and  holding  the 
conceded  position  of  the  social,  political  and  com- 
mercial capital  bf  the  state,  Denver  has  a  gratifying 
future  of  growth  before  it.  Another  year  will  bring 
through  it  the  Pacific  Railroad  on  the  St.  Louis 
route,  connecting  here  with  the  branch  of  the  main 
or  central  road  that  drops  down  from  Cheyenne ;  a 
railroad  is  already  commenced,  also,  towards  the 
mining  centers  of  the  mountains  by  the  Clear  Creek 
valley ;  and  it  cannot  be  long  before  a  southern  road 
will  be  demanded,  down  from  Denver  along  the  base 
of  the  Mountains  to  southern  Colorado  and  Santa 
Fe.  Not  unlikely,  indeed,  it  will  prove  wiser  to 
carry  the  first  southern  Pacific  Railroad  around  this 
way,  rather  than  to  strike  diagonally  across  to  Santa 
Fe  from  the  present  terminus  of  the  St.  Louis  Road, 
as  is  proposed,  for  this  route  is  through  a  rich  and 
already  partly  developed  agricultural  country,  while 
that  goes  by  half  or  wholly  barren  table-lands,  not 
likely  to  be  at  all  occupied  for  many  years,  and 
never  capable  like  this  of  holding  a  large  population. 
Coal  and  iron  and  clay  are  found  in  the  neigh- 
borhood ;  the  hills  give  timber ;  the  valleys  every 
grain  and  vegetable  and  many  fruits ;  and  Denver 
cannot  well  escape  a  steady  and  healthy  growth, 
and  the  destiny  of  becoming  one  of  the  most  per- 


38  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

manently  prosperous,  as  it  will  be  certainly  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  of  our  great  western  interior 
cities,  I  rank  it  along  with  Salt  Lake-City.  Both 
are  off  the  main  line  of  the  continental  railroad; 
but  both  have  locations  amid  developed  natural 
wealth  and  conceded  natural  beauty,  that  must  com- 
mand their  future,  and  make  it  one  of  power  and 
prosperity.  Six  hundred  miles  apart,  with  the  con- 
tinental range  of  mountains  separating  them,  there 
can  be  no  rivalry  between  them,  save  in  social  graces 
and  pleasure  attractions,  and  here  the  Mormon  su- 
premacy in  Salt  Lake  will  give  Denver  great  ad- 


III. 

THE  GEOGRAPHY  OF  COLORADO. 

The  Back-bone  of  the  Continent — The  Mother  Mountains  of 
America — The  Three  Great  Divisions  of  Colorado — Her  Plains, 
Her  Folds  of  High  Mountain  Ranges,  Her  Great  Natural, 
Elevated  Parks — North,  Middle  and  South  Parks ;  their  Sur- 
roundings and  their  Beauties — The  Unknown  West  of  Colorado. 

IN  THE  MOUNTAINS,  Colorado,  August,  1868. 
As  Pennsylvania  is  the  key-stone  in  the  Atlantic 
belt  or  arch  of  states,  so  is  Colorado  the  key-stone 
in  the  grand  continental  formation.  She  holds  the 
back-bone,  the  stiffening  of  the  Republic.  Lying 
a  huge  square  block  in  the  very  center  of  the  vast 
region  bounded  by*  the  Mississippi  valley  on  the 
east,  the  Pacific  Ocean  on  the  west,  and  British 
America  and  Mexico  north  and  south,  the  conti- 
nental mountain  chain  here  dwells  in  finest  propor- 
tions, exaggerates,  puffs  itself  up  and  spreads  itself 
aroomd  with  a  perfect  wantonness  and  luxuriance 
of  power, — great  fountains  of  gold  and  silver,  and 
lead  and  copper,  and  zinc  and  iron, — great  fountains 
of  water  that  pours  itself  in  all  directions  through 
the  whole  interior  of  the  Continent,  feeding  a 
wealth  of  agriculture  that  is  little  developed  and 
never  yet  dreamed  of  even, — great  fountains  of 


4O  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

health  in  pure,  dry  and  stimulating  air,  —  great 
fountains  of  natural  beauty ;  she  may  proudly  bid 
the  nation  come  to  her  for  strength,  for  wealth,  for 
vigor, — for  rest  and  restoration, —  and  may  well 
call  her  mountains  the  Sierra  Madre,  the  Mother 
Mountains  of  the  Continent. 

Her  geographical  prominence  and  parentage  are 
but  type  and  promise  of  her  future  relations  to 
the  developed  and  developing  life  of  the  nation. 
Stretching  two  hundred  and  sixty  miles  north  and 
south,  and  three  hundred  and  seventy-five  miles 
east  and  west,  her  territory  has  three  natural  sub- 
divisions. The  eastern  third  is  of  the  Plains,  and* 
forms  their  western  section,— a  high  rolling  plateau 
from  four  thousand  to  five  thousand  feet  above  the 
sea  level,  richly  watered  by  streams  from  the  moun- 
tains, the  strips  along  the  rivers  ripe  for  abundant 
harvests  of  grain  and  fruits  and  vegetables,  the 
whole  already  the  finest  pasture  land  of  the  Conti- 
nent, and  with  irrigation,  for  which  the  streams 
afford  ready  facility,  capable  of  most  successful 
cultivation, — beautiful  in  its  wide,  treeless  sea  of 
green  and  gray,  with  waves  of  land  to  break  the 
monotony  and  lift  the  eye  on  to  the  great  panorama 
of  mountains,  snow-slashed  and  snow-capped,  that 
hangs  over  its  western  line  through  all  its  length  of 
two  hundred  and  sixty  miles,  and  marks  the  second 
or  middle  division  of  the  state.  This  is  of  about 
equal  width, — mountains  one  hundred,  one  hundred 
and  fifty,  two  hundred  miles  deep, — on,  on  to  the* 
west,  till  even  this  pure  air  tires  of  carrying  the  eye 
over  peak  on  peak,  over  range  on  range, — you  think 


COLORADO:   ITS  PARKS  AND  MOUNTAINS.     41 

you  must  look  over  into  Brigham  Young's  fertile  val- 
leys, and  trace  the  Colorado  River  out  of  its  grand 
mystery,  even  if  the  outer  and  faintest  rim  does  not 
shadow  forth  the  Sierra  Nevada  of  California. 

Starting  from  an  elevation  at  the  end  of  the 
Plains  of  five  thousand  to  five  thousand  five  hun- 
dred feet,  these  mountains  rapidly  carry  you  up  to 
eight  thousand,  ten  thousand,  thirteen  thousand, 
near  to  fifteen  thousand  feet  above  the  sea  level. 
Nine,  ten,  and  twelve  thousand  feet  peaks  are  scat- 
tered everywhere, — they  are  the  mountains, — while 
those  that  mount  to  thirteen  or  fourteen  thousand 
are  plenty  enough  to  be  familiar,  and  are  indeed 
rarely  out  of  sight.  They  do  not  form  a  simple 
line,  ascending  from  one  and  descending  to  another 
plain  or  valley,  but  are  a  dozen  lines  folded  on,  and 
mingled  among  each  other,  in  admirable  confusion  ; 
opening  to  let  their  superfluous  waters  flow  out ; 
closing  to  hold  their  treasures  and  defy  the  ap- 
proach of  man ;  gathering  up  all  their  strength,  as 
it  were,  to  make  a  peak  or  two  of  extra  massive 
proportion^  cold  with  snow  and  dreary  with  rock ; 
and  shading  down  into  comparatively  tender  hills, 
that  woo  the  forests  and  the  flowers  to  their  very 
summits.  The  line  of  peaks  that  divide  the  waters 
that  flow  to  the  Atlantic  from  those  coursing  into 
the  Pacific, — "the  divide,"  par  excellence, — twists 
and  turns  through  the  territory,  very  much  in  the 
style  of  a  long  and  double-backed  bow,  making  an 
almost  entire  circle  sometimes,  and  then  coming 
back  to  its  mission  as  a  north  and  south  line. 
Within  its  huge  folds  are  other  "divides,"  sepa- 


42  A    SUMMER   VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

rating  the  feeders  to  rival  rivers  of  the  same  conti- 
nental side,  or  rival  feeders  of  the  same  river,  and 
other  ranges  with  peaks  as  high  as  the  parent 
range;  and  within  an-d  among  them  all,  the  hills, 
as  if  tired  of  hight  and  perpendicularity,  give  way 
to  wide  plains  or  prairies,  with  all  the  beauties  and 
characteristics  of  plains  and  prairies  outside  the 
mountain  region,  and  the  added  charm  of  holding 
little  baby  mountains  of  their  own  to  diversify  the 
landscape  and  feed  forest  and  stream,  while  up  and 
around  them  grow,  through  woods  and  grassy  open- 
ings, the  grand  parent  ranges  that  guard  and  en- 
fold what  are  well  called  NATURAL  PARKS. 

These  Parks  are  a  distinctive  and  remarkable 
feature  of  this  mountain  center  or  belt  of  Colo- 
rado. They  open  upon  the  traveler  at  frequent  in- 
tervals in  charming  unexpectedness ;  rich  with  grass 
and  water,  with  trees  and  flowers,  with  soft  beauty 
of  outline  and  warm  beauty  of  color,  in  most  ad- 
mirable contrast  to  the  rough  rocks  and  white  snow 
of  the  high  ranges  around.  Most  of  these  Parks 
are,  of  course,  petite, — little  wide  valleys  around  the 
heads  of  single  streams,  or  the  conjunctions  of  sev- 
eral, or  the  homes  of  sweet  lakes;  but  there  are 
four  great  ones  that  mark  the  phenomenon  and 
give  the  name.  These  are  North  Park,  Middle 
Park,  South  Park  and  San  Luis  Park,  varying  in 
size  from  twenty  by  fifty  miles  to  one  hundred  by 
two  hundred,  or  say  from  Rhode  Island  to  Massa- 
chusetts,— little  episodes  and  interjections  among 
these  mountains,  by  whose  size,  as  thus  stated, 
you  may  take  in  some  sense  of  the  extent  and 


COLORADO  :     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.        43 

majesty  of  the  region,  of  which  they  are  a  sub- 
feature,  as  a  whole. 

The  North  Park  extends  up  to  the  northern  line 
of  the  territory  and  within  thirty  or  forty  miles  of 
the  Pacific  Railroad  ;  through  and  out  of  it  flow  the 
head  waters  of  the  North  Platte ;  its  streams  are 
thicker  with  trout,  and  its  sage  brush  and  buffalo 
grass  and  wooded  hill-sides  offer  more  deer  and 
wolves  and  antelopes  and  bears  than  are  found  in 
the  lower  and  more  frequented  Parks,  but  its  soil  is 
colder  as  its  elevation  is  higher,  and  its  charms  of 
color  and  vegetation  more  stinted.  Middle  Park 
lies  next  below,  and  separated  by  a  single  but 
high  sub-range  of  the  main  mountains.  This  is 
fifty  miles  wide  by  seventy  miles  long,  and  as  the 
continental  divide  sweeps  around  on  its  eastern 
side,  all  its  waters  flow  into  the  Colorado  of  the 
West  and  so  into  the  Pacific.  But  it  embraces 
within  itself  several  high  ranges  of  hills  and  two 
or  three  different  valleys.  The  great  peaks  of  the 
territory  lie  marshaled  around  it, — Long's  Peak, 
Gray's  Peaks,  and  Mount  Lincoln,  north-east,  south- 
east and  south-west,  each  from  thirteen  thousand  to 
fourteen  thousand  five  hundred  feet  high ;  and  snow- 
topped  mountains  circle  its  whole  area.  Milder  and 
more  beautiful  in  landscape  than  the  North,  it  yet 
falls  behind  its  neighbor  on  the  other  side,  the 
South  Park,  which  is  thirty  miles  wide  and  sixty 
long,  and,  fellowshiping  with  the  North  Park,  comes 
into  the  inner  tail  of  the  bow,  carries  the  continental 
divide  on  its  west,  and  furnishes  the  waters  of  the 
Arkansas  and  the  South  Platte. 


44  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

This  (the  South)  is  the  more  beautiful  of  the- 
Parks  and  the  better  known.  Mining  discoveries 
within  and  around  it  have  opened  roads  through  it, 
and  bordered  it  with  settlements.  It  offers  a  re- 
markable combination  of  the  beauties  of  the  Plains 
and  those  of  the  Mountains.  They  mingle  and  mix 
in  charming  association.  Wide  areas  of  rich  prairie 
open  out  before  the  level  eye ;  upraise  it  or  turn 
one  side,  and  grand  snowy  mountains  carry  the 
sight  up  among  the  clouds ;  and  between  these 
types  of  natural  beauty  are  plentiful  shadings  in 
gently  rolling  hills,  long  level  banks,  thick  and 
diversified  forests,  bright  and  bountiful  streams, — 
all  the  grand  panorama  of  natural  beauty  that  hill 
and  valley,  mountain  and  plain,  winter  and  sum- 
mer, snow  and  verdure,  trees  and  rocks,  water  and 
waste  can  produce  in  combination  and  comparison, 
is  here  spread  before  the  spectator,  not  from  a 
single  spot  or  in  a  singly  hour  of  his  travel,  but 
from  mile  to  mile,  from  day's  journey  to  day's  jour- 
ney, ever  the  same  various  scene,  yet  ever  shifting 
in  its  kaleidoscopic  alliances  and  changes. 

The  San  Luis  Park  lies  along  and  around  the 
Arkansas  and  its  tributaries  in  Southern  Colorado 
and  Northern  New  Mexico,  is  the  largest  and  per- 
haps the  most  varied  of  the  series  of  great  Parks, 
centers  about  a  grand  lake,  and  is  rich  alike  in 
agricultural  and  mineral  .promise.  The  Indians 
have  robbed  us  of  our  promised  peep  into  its  lines, 
and  we  know  it  only  by  its  kinship  to  those  we 
have  visited,  and  the  enthusiastic  descriptions  of 
those  to  whom  it  is  familiar.  But  the  South  Park 


COLORADO  :     ITS    PARKS   AND    MOUNTAINS.       45 

as  yet  takes  the  palm  among  the  Coloradians,  per- 
haps only,  however,  because  it  is  the  more  acces- 
sible, and  its  beauties  more  thoroughly  explored. 
Certainly  it  lies  more  closely  in  the  lap  of  the  great 
mountains  ;  and  Mount  Lincoln  and  Pike's  Peak, 
perhaps  the  most  noted  and  remarkable  of  all  the 
high  peaks  of  the  territory,  sentinel  it  north  and 
south,  feed  it  from  their  snows,  protect  it  from  the 
rough  winds,  shadow  it  from  the  sharp  suns. 

In  spite  of  these  great  elevations,  the  traveler 
carries  summer  skies  as  he  keeps  summer  scenes 
with  him  at  this  season  in  most  of  his  excursions 
among  the  mountains  and  their  parks  in  Colorado. 
We  borrow  our  ideas  of  mountain  travel  and  moun- 
tain hights  from  Switzerland  and  the  White  Moun- 
tains of  New  Hampshire.  Among  them  both,  vege- 
tation ceases  at  about  five  thousand  feet  above  the 
sea  level,  and  perpetual  snow  reigns  among  the 
Alps  at  seven  thousand  to  eight  thousand  feet,  and 
would  in  the  White  Mountains  if  they  went  as 
high.  But  here  in  these  vaster  mountain  regions 
than  either  of  Western  America,  the  hills  them- 
selves only  begin  to  rise  from  the  Plains  at  an 
elevation  of  five  thousand  five  hundred  feet.  And 
at  that  hight,  though  the  nights  are  always  de- 
liciously  cool,  the  summer's  days  are  as  warm  as, 
if  not  warmer  than  they  ever  are  in  the  valleys  of 
the  New  England  States,  and  snow  enough  for 
sleighing  or  to  force  the  cattle  to  shelter  or  other 
food  than  the  prairie  grass  is  only  a  rare  chance, — 
a  memory  of  the  oldest,  or  a  dream  of  the  youngest 
inhabitant.  At  six  thousand  or  seven  thousand 


46  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

feet,  in  the  valleys  of  the  mountains,  the  small 
grains  and  the  tenderer  vegetables  are  successfully 
cultivated,  and  at  seven  thousand  five  hundred  and 
eight  thousand  five  hundred  feet,  potatoes,  turnips 
and  cabbages  thrive.  The  Middle  Park  ranges 
from  seven  thousand  seven  hundred  to  nine  thou- 
sand feet  high  in  its  level  sections,  and  the  South 
from  six  thousand  five  hundred  to  seven  thousand 
five  hundred,  while  the  higher  plains  and  embraced 
hills  of  both  run  up  to  ten  thousand  and  even 
eleven  thousand  feet.  Yet  grass  grows  richly  and 
abundantly  through  both  ;  hay  is  a  great  natural 
crop,  and  is  cured  already  for  all  the  wants  that 
can  be  reached  ;  and  in  the  lower  parts  of  the 
South  Park,  cattle  winter  out  of  doors,  and  the 
smaller  grains  and  hardier  vegetables  are  grown 
with  great  siiccess  and  profit.  Flowers  are  beauti- 
ful and  abundant  up  to  ten  thousand  or  eleven 
thousand  feet, — so  beautiful  and  abundant  that  I 
must  reserve  them  for  special  description, — the 
largest  and  best  timber  -grows  at  nine  thousand 
to  eleven  thousand  feet,  and  trees  do  not  cease 
till  you  pass  above  eleven  thousand  five  hundred 
feet,  while  the  real,  absolute  and  perpetual  snow 
line,  —  such  snow  and  ice  as  are  found  univer- 
sally in  Switzerland  at  eight  thousand  feet, — is 
not  reached  at  all  in  these  mountains.  At  twelve 
thousand  feet,  it  begins  to  lie  in  great  patches  on 
the  shaded  sides  of  the  hills,  or  in  deep  ravines, 
and  goes  on  to  multiply  in  such  form  as  the  moun- 
tains rise  to  their  greatest  hight  at  fourteen  thou- 
sand to  fourteen  thousand  five  hundred  feet.  But 


COLORADO  :     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.       4/ 

it  absolutely  covers  no  mountain  peak;  the  tops 
of  Gray's  Peaks  and  Mount  Lincoln,  the  highest 
points  in  the  whole  region,  are  dry  and  bare,  at 
least  at  midday,  through  August,  though  in  reach- 
ing them  you  may  go  over  snow  fields  twenty  or 
thirty  feet  deep  and  miles  long,  though  nearly 
every  morning's  sun  may  glance  brilliantly  off  the 
freshly  whitened  peaks  of  all  the  high  mountains-  in 
sight,  and  though  it  makes  everywhere  and  at  all 
times  a  significant  feature  in  all  the  landscape 
visions  of  the  country.  The  full  mountains  of 
snow  and  the  vast  rivers  of  ice  that  belong  to 
Switzerland  are  not  here,  and  are  certainly  missed 
by  the  experienced  mountain  traveler ;  but  for  their 
absence  we  have  many  compensations, — a  more  va- 
ried and  richer  verdure,  a  wider  range  of  mountains, 
with  greater  variety  of  form  and  color,  these  elevated 
Parks,  that  have  no  parallel  anywhere  for  curious 
combination  of  landscape  feature  and  beauty  and 
practical  use,  a  climate  in  summer  that  fosters  com- 
fort and  makes  high  mountain  travel  both  much 
more  possible  and  agreeable,  and  an  atmosphere 
that,  in  purity  and  dryness,  in  inspiring  influence 
upon  body  and  mind,  can  find  no  match  in  any  part 
of  Europe,  nor  elsewhere  in  America. 

The  third  or  western  great  division  of  Colorado 
is  comparatively  unknown.  Explorers  have  crossed 
it  here  and  there ;  adventurous  miners  have  pene- 
trated into  this  and  that  of  its  valleys ;  but  it  holds 
no  real  popu-lation,  and  its  character  is  known  only 
in  a  general  way.  The  great  *  mour 
s'.iade  down  irregularly  through 

UNIVERSITY 


48  A    SUMMER   VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

interior  basin  of  the  West,  instead  of  breaking  off 
almost  abruptly,  as  they  do  on  their  eastern  side, 
into  the  level  plains;  the  Grand,  the  White,  the 
Green  and  the  Gunnison,  the  great  feeders  of  the 
Colorado  of  the  West,  slash  freely  through  it,  often 
by  narrow  and  unapproachable  gorges,  often  too 
through  wide  and  rich  valleys ;  many  a  high  park, 
with  rough  sage  brush  and  tall  grass,  spreads  itself 
out,  cold  and  dreary  in  the  north,  warmer  and  more 
fertile  in  the  south.  Many  a  fable  of  rich  mines, 
of  beautiful  valleys,  of  broken  and  ruined  moun- 
tains,— the  debris  of  great  conflicts  of  nature, — 
many  a  deep  faith  in  untold  wealth  and  unnum- 
bered beauties  do  I  hear  of  and  about  this  section 
of  the  territory;  but  the  fact  remains  that  it  has 
but  few  settlers  and  no  especial  history, — and  I 
gather  the  conclusion  that  it  is  in  every  way  less 
interesting  to  traveler,  less  enticing  to  speculator 
or  settler,  than  the  middle  and  eastern  divisions. 
New  and  thorough  explorations  are  in  progress 
through  its  lines ;  "another  year  will  add  something 
to  our  knowledge  of  its  valleys  and  mountains  ;  but 
for  the  present  it  is  perhaps  as  much  unknown  land 
as  any  section  of  equal  size  in  the  United  States. 


%  IV. 

TRAVEL    AMONG    THE    MOUNTAINS. 

From  Denver  up  into  the  Mountains — How  the  Honest  Miners 
Travel,  and  Colorado  Families  Make  Summer  Excursions — 
The  Clear  Creek  Valleys— The  Scene  of  Beirstadt's  Storm  in 
the  Rocky  Mountains — The  Outfit  for  a  Trip  to  Middle  Park — 
We  Celebrate  the  Mule— The  Upper  Valley  of  Clear  Creek, 
and  up  the  Mountain  Side — The  Flowers,  the  Shrubs,  and  the 
Trees  of  the  Higher  Regions. 

TOP  OF  BERTHOUD  PASS,  August,  1868. 
GOING  into  the  mountains  from  Denver,  the  trav- 
eler has  choice  of  several  roads.  To  the  north  he 
passes  up  Boulder  Creek  to  Boulder  City  and  its 
sub-villages  and  mining  camps  ;  more  directly  west 
are  the  Clear  Creek  valley  routes,  one  by  Golden 
City,  and  on  to  North  Clear  Creek,  with  Black 
Hawk  and  Central  City,  that  run  into  each  other 
and  form  the  chief  mining  town  of  the  territory, 
and  passing  from  here  over  to  South  Clear  Creek, 
with  Idaho,  Fall  River,  Mill  City,  Empire  and 
Georgetown  on  its  line, — this  being  the  daily  stage 
route,  and  the  other,  farther  south,  going  up  the 
Mount  Vernon  road,  and  striking  down  into  the 
South  Clear  Creek  valley  below  Idaho ;  while  still 
farther  south,  where  Bear  Creek  and  Turkey  Creek 
3 


5O  A    SUMMER   VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

come  out  of  the  mountain  range,  is  the  road  that 
leads  up  and  through  the  South  Park  country.  At 
this  season  all  these  roads  are  good, — for  mountain 
roads;  in  most  part  quite  excellent  and  much  trav- 
eled, and  kept  in  repair  by  tolls  collected  under 
territorial  charters.  Fifty  miles  is  the  end  of  the 
stage  line  and  wagon  road  at  Georgetown ;  and  a 
like  distance  on  either  road  takes  you  into  the 
midst  of  the  high  mountains,  and  to  the  foot  of 
the  continental  range.  The  Boulder  and  both  the 
Clear  Creek  roads  all  connect  by  cross-roads  in  the 
mountains ;  but  there  is  no  direct  connection  be- 
tween the  South  Park  and  the  upper  Clear  Creek 
valleys  save  by  trails.  A  tri-weekly  stage-wagon 
goes  direct  from  Denver  into  the  South  Park 
region  to  supply  its  villages  with  mails  and  carry 
passengers. 

All  these  roads  introduce  one  delightfully  to  close 
companionship  with  the  mountain  scenery, —  first 
through  the  long,  wide  prairie;  then  into  narrow 
valleys ;  occasionally  a  bold  gorge  or  canyon  and  a 
broken  mountain ;  up  and  among  and  over  high 
hills,  commanding  majestic  views  of  higher  sum- 
mits beyond ;  through  little  wooded  parks  or  open 
fields,  where  grain  grows  and  flocks  feed,  and  some- 
body keeps  "  a  ranch ; "  by  lively  streams  with  tan- 
gles of  willows  and  hops  and  clematis,  and  fruity 
shrubs  up  the  drier  and  higher  banks ;  among 
flowers  everywhere,  growing  finer  and  plentier  the 
higher  you  climb;  out  and  in  forests  of  various 
species  of  cotton-wood  and  evergreen,  often  brown 
and  dead  through  wasting  fires  that  have  swept  the 


COLORADO  :     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.        5 1 

hill-sides,  or  half  cleared  for  the  consuming  rage  of 
the  gold  and  silver  furnaces,  but  still  a  rich  posses- 
sion of  beauty  and  wealth  for  the  country ;  under 
a  sun  always  searching  with  heat,  but  through  an 
atmosphere  growing  rarer  and  rarer  and  drier  and 
drier,  and  ever  fresh  and  cool, — the  day's  ride  is 
thus  a  perpetual  pleasure  and  surprise  to  the  new- 
comer. 

* 

We  scattered  in  disorder  on  our  first  trip  to  the 
mountains.  The  Vice-President  and  the  Governor 
took  the  stage  and  fulfilled  several  appointments 
to  make  speeches.  Governor  Hunt  of  the  Terri- 
tory made  up  a  camping  excursion  for  the  young 
ladies,  with  carriage,  saddle-horses  and  outfit  of 
tents,  blankets,  cooking-stove  and  "grub"  in  bulk, 
and  moved  leisurely  up  by  the  Mount  Vernon  road, 
— reckless  of  time  or  taverns,  and  stopping  where- 
ever  hunger  or  night  overtook  them.  That  patri- 
arch of  the  country,  General  Pierce,  and  myself, 
drove  "a  one-horse  shay"  by  the  same  route  ;  and 
when  we  grew  hungry,  we  picked  out  a  brook  and 
a  choice  lot  of  grass,  turned  the  horse  loose  for  an 
hour,  and  lay  among  the  flowers  and  disposed  of 
huge  piles  of  bread  and  butter  and  meat,  that 
we  had  brought  with  us,  after  the  fashion  of  the 
country.  This  independent  camping  habit  is  al- 
most the  rule  with  home  travelers  here.  It  grew 
up  with  the  necessities  of  the  early  settlements  and 
the  roving,  straggling  ways  of  the  miners.  The 
taverns  are  not  now  frequent  or  good  ;  the  climate 
favors  the  outdoor  life  at  this  season  ;  and  with 
provision  in  abundance,  blankets,  a  coffee-pot,  a 


52  A    SUMMER   VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

frying-pan,  and  a  sack  of  flour  and  a  side  of  bacon, 
either  in  a  wagon,  or  packed  on  an  extra  horse,  if 
you  are  journeying  in  the  saddle,  even  pleasure- 
travelers  find  it  much  the  more  comfortable  and 
decidedly  the  more  independent  mode,  while  to  the 
old  settler,  and  especially  to  a  miner,  it  is  alto- 
gether a  matter  of  course.  One  of  these  hangs  his 
blanket  and  his  coffee-pot  and  frying-pan,  with  a 
joint  of  meat  and  a  bit  of  bread,  around  his  saddle, 
and  without  extra  animal  or  companion,  is  good  for 
a  week's  journey  among  the  mountains.  What  he 
lacks  for  food  he  finds  in  the  streams  or  woods,  or 
buys  at  the  occasional  ranch,  and  at  night  a  de- 
serted cabin,  which  is  nearly  always  at  hand,  where 
miners  have  been  and  are  not,  or  a  roadside  tree 
and  an  open  camp  fire  furnish  him  shelter  and 
warmth.  He  sleeps  the  sleep  of  the  tired,  and  if 
it  rains  and  he  gets  wet,  the  renewed  fire  dries 
him,  and  the  climate  never  encourages  colds.  So 
with  the  multiple  of  our  single  traveler;  with  com- 
panions conveniences  and  comforts  increase,  but 
the  fashion  is  the  same  ;  and  whole  families, — 
mothers  and  babies  included, — will,  with  covered 
wagon  and  a  saddle-horse  or  two,  make  a  pleasure 
visit  to  the  mountains,  after  this  fashion,  and  live 
literally  on  the  country  for  days  and  weeks,  in 
delightful  and  refreshing  companionship  with  Na- 
ture. It  was  this  sort  of  life  that  we  were  all 
entering  upon,- in  all  its  strange  novelty  and  stimu- 
lating influences. 

We   found   the   Clear   Creek  valleys    generally 
brisk  and  beautiful.     Between  mining  and  milling 


COLORADO:   ITS  PARKS  AND  MOUNTAINS.     53 

and  the  late  floods,  the  north  one  is  terribly  torn 
to  pieces,  and  looks  rough  and  ragged.  Black 
Hawk  and  Central  City  may  be  good  places  to 
get  gold  in,  but  there  can  be  no  genuine  homes 
ttiere.  The  valley  is  too  narrow,  a  mere  ravine, 
and  all  beauty  is  sacrificed  to  use  ;  though  -after 
all  beauty  is  truly  use, — but  to  the  mere  use  of 
washing  out  gold.  Below  and  above,  the  valley 
widens  and  is  finer ;  but  over  the  divide  on  the 
South  Branch,  there  is  a  very  charming  country  to 
look  upon  and  live  in.  Below  Idaho,  gulch  mining, 
which  is  pretty  lively  and  successful  still,  despoils 
the  prospect  so  far  as  man  can  ;  but  the  dozen  or 
fifteen  miles  from  Idaho  up  by  Fall  River,  Mill 
City  and  Empire  to  Georgetown,  is  quite  the  nicest 
bit  of  the  inhabited  portion  of  the  mountains^  The 
valley  is  not  wide,  indeed  you  can  heave  a  stone 
across  it  in  the  narrower,  and  fire  a  rifle  from  hill 
to  hill  at  its  wider  parts  ;  but  it  breaks  out  fre- 
quently into  little  nooks  of  plateaus  or  bars  ;  it 
opens  up  into  seductive  side  valleys  or  canyons, 
and  it  winds  and  turns  about,  and  sends  up  its 
high  mountain  walls  in  form  and  manner,  to  pre- 
sent a  constantly  varying  but  ever  beautiful  scene. 
At  the  upper  end,  winter  confronts  you  in  show- 
covered  peaks ;  below,  nature  looks  warm  and  sum- 
mer-like ;  and  though  the  valley  is  from  seven  thou- 
sand five  hundred  to  eight  thousand  five  hundred 
feet  high,  the  days  are  like  June  and  October,  and 
the  winter  is  not  long  or  severe.  Till  you  reach 
Georgetown,  where  the  hills  shut  in  the  valley 
sharply,  and  the  rich  silver  section  has  its  center, 


54  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

there  is  not  much  mining,  and  the  villages  are  but 
neighborhoods  of  six  to  a  dozen  houses  each.  Ida- 
ho and  Fall  River  have  good  hotels,  and  are  favor- 
ite summer  resorts.  The  former  has  a  wonderful 
hot  soda  spring  that  furnishes  most  refreshing  a'nd 
health-giving  baths.  Over  it  rise  a  family  group  of 
three  peaks,  distinguishable  in  all  mountain  views, 
and  known  as  the  Chief,  Squaw  and  Papoose,  and  up 
from  the  valley  here  you  rise  to  Chicago*  Lake  and 
Chicago  Mountain,  familiar  as  the  foreground  scene 
in  Bierstadt's  "  Storm  in  the  Rocky  Mountains." 

All  these  mountains  go  sharply  up  from  two  to 
four  thousand  feet  above  the  valley,  often-  past  the 
timber  line,  and  end  in  snow  or  bare,  grim  rocks. 
They  offer  unending  fascination  to  the  lover  of 
mountain-climbing  and  mountain  views  ;  while  to 
lie  on  the  grassy  banks  just  above  the  river, — that, 
in  practical  parenthesis,  it  should  be  noted,  runs 
swift  and  strong  down  the  rapid  descent  of  the 
valley,  and  is  full  of  "  water  power," — in  the  warm 
sun,  and  look  through  the  snowy  fleece  of  grass- 
hoppers, that  with  outstretched  wings  fill  the  air, 
up  and  among  them, — masses  of  forest  and  rock 
and  patches  of  snow, — to  the  line  of  brightened 
blue  sky  they  border, — this  is  just  comfort  and  rest, 
and  is  worth  the  coming  to  experience. 

It  was  from  here  that,  sending  wagons  and  women, 
tents  and  trunks,  back  to  Denver,  and  coming  down 
as  the  miners  say  to  the  "  bed-rock  "  of  flannel  over- 
shirts  and  a  pocket  comb  for  personal  baggage,  we 
started  with  a  select  masculine  party  for  a  week's 
trip  over  into  the  Middle  Park. 


COLORADO:    ITS  PARKS  AND  MOUNTAINS.     55 

We.  had  a  number  of  welcome  Colorado  volun- 
teers for  this  expedition.  There  were  a  full  dozen 
of  us  that  gathered  after  breakfast  on  mule  and 
horseback  in  the  last  camp  of  Governor  Hunt  and 
the  young  ladies,  far  up  the  Clear  Creek  valley, 
above  Empire.  The  latter  went  back,  we  forward, 
led  by  Governor  Hunt  and  Indian  Agent  Oakes. 
Charley  Utter,  a  famous  mountaineer,  trapper,  In- 
dian scout,  rove^  such  a  character  as  only  the 
American  border  can  breed,  small  and  tough,  wiry 
and  witty,  intelligent  and  handsome, — alike  at  home 
in  your  parlor  or  an  Indian  hut, — and  to  whom  all 
these  mountains  and  parks  are  as  familiar  as  your 
own  paternal  acres  are  to  yourself;  he  and  his 
assistant,  Franklin  Ashley,  provided  our  animals 
and  outfit  generally,  and  also  came  along  with  u£, 
to  guide  and  help  us  in  our  new  and  strange  life. 
Two  extra  mules  and  a  horse  carried  our  blankets 
and  provisions  and  cooking  utensils,  and  the  per- 
sonal baggage  of  those  not  weaned  yet  from  carpet 
bags. 

Some  experience  as  a  traveler  myself,  and  more 
valuable  advice  from  those  of  larger,  had  taught 
me  to  rise  superior  to  such  aristocratic  impedi- 
ments. Indeed,  it  proved  I  was  outfitted  in  quite 
a  model  way,  and  had  more  of  what  was  necessary 
and  less  of  what  was  not,  than  others  of  the  inex- 
perienced in  camp  and  mountain  travel.  First, 
woolen  stockings  and  winter  under  clothing;  and 
of  these,  an  extra  set,  with  two  extra  handkerchiefs 
and  two  towels,  soap,  comb  and  tooth-brush  and 
slippers,  only  moderately  filled  a  pair  of  light  saddle- 


$6  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

bags  on  my  own  animal.  Over  the  undershirt  was 
worn  a  dark  and  thick  cassimere  shirt,  with  turn- 
over collar  of  same  and  pocket  in  breast,  which, 
coming  nowhere  in  contact  with  the  body,  may  be 
worn  for  weeks  without  disrespect  to  your  washer- 
woman. A  pair  of  very  thick,  high  top,  riding 
boots,  of  extra  size;  my  last  winter's  thick  panta- 
loons and  heavy  sack  coat,  and  an  old  soft  hat, 
flexible  as  a  rag,  and  answering  as  well  for  a  night- 
cap, completed  my  clothing.  No  vest  or  waist- 
coat, no  suspenders ;  a  strap  around  the  waist  held 
things  together,  and  carried  a  revolver  and  a  tin 
cup.  Over  the  saddle-bags  behind  were  strapped 
a  thin  woolen  overcoat, — it  better  have  been  thick, 
— and  a  loose  rubber  cloth  coat ;  both  which  were 
frequently  in  use,  and  were  always  valuable  at 
night ;  and  as  often  in  mid-day  they  had  the  com- 
pany around  the  saddle  of  the  sack  coat,  and  I  rode 
under  the  warm  sun  in  pantaloons  and  shirts.  It 
was  a  neat,  complete  and  compact  personal  outfit ; 
everything  that  was  needed  for  a  trip  of  two  or 
three  weeks,  and  the  only  modification  I  would 
make,  in  going  again,  would  be  to  substitute  a  pair 
of  old  shoes  for  the  slippers,  and  to  have  the  rub- 
ber overcoat  so  modified  that  it  would  closely  cover 
the  legs  in  trie  saddle  down  to  the  boot-tops.  All 
this  was  carried  on  and  around  my  own  saddle ;  my 
bedding  alone  went  on  the  pack  animals,  and  this 
consisted  of  two  pairs  of  heavy  blankets,  a  buffalo 
robe,  a  rubber  blanket  and  a  pillow, — all  strapped 
into  a  tight  roll  or  bundle, — no  more  than  one  rest- 
less sleeper  needs  in  the  cold  nights  of  these  out- 


COLORADO  :     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.       57 

door  mountains,  but  equally  abundant  for  two  square 
and  fair  sleepers  who  will  turn  over  at  one  and  the 
same  time  and  don't  kick  the  clothes  off. 

My  mule, — did  you  ever  ride  a  mule  ?  There  is 
no  other  experience  that  exactly  fits  one  for  this. 
As  far  as  a  mule's  brains  go,  he  is  pretty  sensible, 
— and  so  obstinate !  But  it  takes  a  long  while  to 
beat  a  new  idea  into  his  head,  and  when  it  dawns 
on  him,  the  effect  is  so  overpowering  that  he  just 
stops  in  amazed  bewilderment,  and  won't  move  on 
again  until  he  is  relieved  of  the  foreign  conscious- 
nes^,  and  gets  back  to  his  own  original  possessions. 
The  whole  process  is  s.tartlingly  human  ;  it  inspires 
you  with  faith  in  the  idea  of  the  transmigration  of 
souls.  I  know  so  many  people  who  must  have 
been  mules  once,  or  will  be, — else  there  is  no  vir- 
tue in  the  fitness  of  things!  But  my  mule  be- 
longed to  the  best  of  the  race ;  he  was  prudent, — 
he  never  went  in  any  doubtful  places  until  some- 
body else  had  gone  before  and  proved  the  way ;  he 
was  very  patient, — he  would  always  stop  for  me  to 
get  off,  or  to  get  on ;  he  was  very  tough, — my  spurs 
never  seemed  to  annoy  him  one  atom,  and  my  rid- 
ing him  didn't  wear  any  skin  offofAts  backsides,  not 
a  bit.  But  after  we  grew  acquainted,  and  he  came 
to  appreciate  the  more  delicate  shades  of  my  char- 
acter, we  got  on  charmingly  together  for  the  first 
half  of  the  day ;  in  the  afternoon,  when  he  grew 
lazy  and  tired,  and  I  nervous,  we  often  had  serious 
discussions, — sometimes  with  sticks, — but  he  gen- 
erally got  the  best  of  the  argument. 

If  a  well-broken  Indian  pony  or  a  "broncho" 

•2* 


58  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

(a  California  half-breed  horse)  can  be  got,  either  is 
probably  better  than  a  mule  ;  more  springy  in  tread 
and  quicker  in  movement,  and  equally  careful  in 
mountain-climbing  and  fording  streams  and  ditches  ; 
but  otherwise,  the  mule  is  the  better  animal  for  your 
work  on  these  expeditions.  A  "States"  horse  can't 
stand  the  hard  riding  and  tough  climbing,  and  be- 
sides must  have  grain  to  keep  him  up,  while  the  mule 
and  the  Indian  and  "broncho"  ponies  will  live  on  the 
rich  grasses  of  the  country.  The  latter  are  apt  to 
be  wilful  and  wicked,  and  should  only  be  taken,  in 
preference  to  the  mules,  upon  good  references  as  to 
character  and  a  trial  to  boot. 

But  "  get  up,  Jenny."  We  are  falling  fast  in  the 
rear.  The  narrow  valley  rapidly  narrows,  and  be- 
comes a  defile,  a  gorge,  wooded  and  flowered,  rock- 
strewed  and  briskly  watered, — a  wild  Alpine  scene. 
The  mountains  rise  sharp  and  sheer,  one  thousand 
and  two  thousand  feet  above  the  road,  and  wide 
walls  of  red  granite  hang  over  it.  The  stream 
turns  and  twists  and  foams,  and  we  follow  a  half- 
made  road  along,  over,  in  its  rugged  path.  There 
was  an  attempt  made  a  few  years  ago  to  build  a 
stage  road  through  the  mountains  and  over  into 
Utah  by  t^is  route ;  many  thousand  dollars  were 
spent  upon  it;  but  it  was  found  too  big  a  job,  and 
it  is  passable  now  for  only  a  few  miles  farther  on. 
It  takes  the  traveler  into  and  among  rich  moun- 
tain beauties ;  even  to  come  up  here  and  go  back, 
without  an  objective  point  beyond,  is  abundant 
recompense. 

After  four  or  five  miles  of  this  road,  we  turn 


COLORADO  :    ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.        59 

sharply  from  it  up  an  abrupt  mountain  trail;  in 
single  file,  along  a  mere  path  on  a  steep  hill-side, 
a  mis-step  of  the  mule  would  send  animal  and  rider 
rolling  over  and  over  among  the  sparse  trees  down 
the  declivity, — but  mules  don't  mis-step,  and  even 
the  top-heavy  pack  jacks, — a  mountain  on  a  mole- 
hill, indeed, — carried  their  burden  and  themselves 
unharmed  to  the  top.  The  thin  and  thinning  air 
offered  severer  trial,  however,  and  the  beasts  strug- 
gled like  huge  bellows  for  wind,  and  trembled  be- 
neath us  in  the  effort  to  take  in  enough  to  keep 
going;  to  get  off  and  walk  was  to  undergo  the 
same  trial  ourselves,  and  walking  or  riding,  we  had 
every  few  rods  to  stop  and  adjust  the  lungs  of  man 
and  beast  to  the  rare  and  growing  rarer  air.  There 
was  temptation  to  stop,  too,  in  the  widening  view 
of  the  upper  mountains ;  their  snowy  fields  and 
gray  or  red  or  brown  walls  and  peaks  lifted  into 
sight,  on  all  sides,  close  and  familiar,  distant  and 
stranger,  but  making  us  feel,  for  the  first  time, 
their  real  companionship, — that  nearness  to  great 
and  sublime  nature  that  awes  and  uplifts  like  the 
presence  of  God  himself. 

Passing  the  sharp  mountain  side,  we  come,  at 
a  hight  of  ten  thousand  feet,  to  pleasant  little  park 
openings,  ascending  by  easy  grade,  half-wooded, 
and  whose  bright  grass  and  abundant  flowers  and 
deep  evergreens  tell  of  fertile  soil  and  protecting 
hights  around.  Such  spots  are  frequent  in  all  these 
high  mountain  ranges,  and  are  exceeding  fair  to 
look  upon.  They  are  in  their  glory  at  this  season ; 
it  is  but  a  little  while  back  to  last  year's  snows,  and 


6O  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

a  few  weeks  forward  to  another  wintry  embrace; 
and  they  make  the  most  of  their  stinted  time.  So 
in  July  and  August  they  compress  the  growth  and 
the  blossom  of  the  whole  year ;  and  we  see  at 
once  flowers  that  are  passed  and  flowers  that  are 
yet  to  come  in  the  Plains  below ;  dandelions  and  . 
buttercups,  violets  and  roses,  larkspurs  and  hare- 
bells, painter's  brush  and  blue  gentian, — these  and 
their  various  companions  of  spring,  summer  and 
autumn,  here  they  all  are,  starring  the  grass,  droop- 
ing  over  the  brook,  improving  every  bit  of  sunshine 
among  the  trees,  jealous  of  every  lost  hour  in  their 
brief  lives. 

I  wish  I  could  repeat  the  roll  of  this  army  of 
beauties  for  the  benefit  of  my  flower-learned  read- 
ers ;  I  know  most  of  them  very  well  by  sight,  as 
the  lad  said  of  his  unlearned  alphabet,  but  cannot 
call  them  by  name.  Blue  and  yellow  are  the  domi- 
nant colors ;  of  the  former  several  varieties  of  little 
bell  and  trumpet-shaped  blossoms,  pendant  along 
stalwart  stalks ;  again,  a  similar  shaped  flower,  but 
more  delicate, —  a  little  tube  in  pink  and  white, 
seems  original  here;  and  of  the  golden  hues,  there 
are  babies  and  grand-babies  of  the  sun-flower  fam- 
ily in  every  shade  and  shape.  One  of  these,  about 
the  size  of  a  small  tea-saucer,  holds  a  center  stem 
or  spike  of  richest  maroon  red,  with  deepest  yellow 
leaves  flaring  away  from  it, — each  color  the  very 
concentration  and  ripeness  of  itself,  as  if  dyed  at 
the  very  fountain  head.  The  harebell  is  at  home 
everywhere;  drooping  modestly  and  alone  on  the 
barren  and  exposed  mountain  side  at  eleven  thou- 


. 

COLORADO  I     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.       6l 

sand  or  twelve  thousand  feet,  as  well  as  in  the  pro- 
tected parks  among  all  its  rivals ;  but  the  fringed 
gentian  is  more  fastidious,  and  grows  only  where 
nature  is  richer,  but  then  in  such  masses,  with 
such  deep  blueness  and  such  undeviating  upright- 
ness of  stem,  as  to  prove  its  birthright  here.  The 
painter's  brush,  as  familiarly  called  here,  is  a  new 
flower  to  me ;  something  like  the  soldier's  pompon 
in  form,  it  stands  stiff  and  distinct  on  a  single 
stalk,  about  six  inches  tall,  with  three  inches'  length 
and  one  inch  in  thickness  or  diameter  of  flower,  in 
every  shade  of  red  from  deepest  crimson  to  pale 
pink,  and  again  in  straw  colors  from  almost  white 
to  deep  lemon.  We  picked  on  a  single  morning's 
ride  seven  of  different  shades  of  red.  A  bunch  of 
the  brightest  of  this  flower,  with  sprinkling  of  those 
of  milder  hues  and  a  few  grasses,  such  as  could  be 
gathered  in  five  minutes  in  many  a  patoh  of  Alpine 
meadow  we  passed  through,  was  enough  to  set  a 
flower-lover  crazy  with  delight.  It  was  a  beacon, 
a  flame  of  color,  and  would  make  a  room  aglow  like 
brilliant  picture  or  wood  fire  on  the  hearth.  But 
perhaps  the  most  bewitching  of  the  flowers  we  dis- 
covered was  a  columbine,  generous  but  delicate,  of 
pale  but-  firm  purple  and  pure  white, — it  was  very 
exquisite  in  form  and  shading.  Higher  up,  where 
only  mosses  could  grow  for  rock  and  snow,  these 
were  in  great  variety  and  richness,  with  white,  with 
blue  and  with  pink  blossoms. 

All  this  wonderful  wealth  and  variety  of  flower 
is  marked  with  strength  but  not  coarseness;  the 
colors  are  more  deep  and  delicate  than  are  found  in 


62  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

garden  flowers ;  and  though  frost  and  snow  may 
stiffen  their  blossoms  every  morning, — for  at  ten 
thousand  feet  high  and  above,  the  temperature  must 
go  down  to  freezing  every  night, —  the  dryness  of 
the  air  preserves  them  through  their  season,  and 
they  keep  on  growing  and  flowering  until  their  Sep- 
tember and  October  winter  fairly  freezes  them  out. 
There  is  no  such  variety  and  beauty  in  the  for- 
ests of  the  Rocky  Mountains  as  those  of  the  East 
and  the  extreme  West  both  offer.  The  oak,  the 
maple,  the  elm,  the  birch,  all  hard  woods  are  un- 
known. Pines,  firs  and  spruces  of  various  species, 
and  the  cotton-wood,  a  soft  maple  or  poplar,  with 
delicate  white  wood  and  a  pale  green  and  smooth 
leaf,  are  all  that  this  region  can  offer  for  trees. 
.  Nor  are  these  generally  of  large  size.  The  forests 
seem  young  and  the  individual  trees  small,  even 
by  the  side  of  those  of  New  England;  there  is 
no  hint  among  them  of  the  giants  of  the  Pacific 
coast.  The  probability  is  that  they  are  young, 
that  the  Indians  kept  them  well  burned  off,  and 
that,  with  settlement  and  civilization,  in  spite  of 
the  wanton  waste  now  in  progress,  and  against 
which  there  should  be  some  speedy  protection,  the 
forest  wealth  will  increase.  Perhaps  not  in  these 
first  years,  but  by  and  by,  when  coal  takes  the 
chief  place  for  fuel,  and  self-interest  and  legisla- 
tion work  out  their  care  of  the  trees,  and  prevent 
devastating  fires.  But  many  a  fine  grove  of  thick 
and  tall  pines,  that  would  warm  the  heart  of  any 
ship-builder,  have  we  passed  through;  and  their 
deep  colors  and  firm  forms,  contrasting  with  the 


COLORADO:  ITS  PARKS  AND  MOUNTAINS.     63 

light  and  free-moving  cotton-wood,  give  a  pleasing 
and  animated  life  to  the  forest  landscape. 

But  the  silver  spruce  is  the  one  gem  of  the 
trees ;  a  sort  of  first  cousin  of  the  evergreen  we 
call  the  balsam  fir  in  our  New  England  yards,  but 
more  richly  endowed  with  beauty  of  shape  and 
color.  It  is  scattered  plentifully  through  these 
mountain  valleys,  and  looks  as  if  a  delicate  silver 
powder  had  been  strewn  over  its  deep  green 
needles,  or  rather  as  if  a  light  white  frost  had 
fallen  all  upon  and  enshrouded  it ;  and  you  cannot 
help  wondering  why  the  breeze  does  not  shake  the 
powder  off,  or  the  sun  dissipate  the  frost,  so  ever 
present  is  the  one  illusion  or  the  other.  But  it 
holds  its  birthright  persistently, — a  soft  white-blue- 
green  combination  of  positive  power  that  comes 
into  the  rather  hardish  gray  neutral  coloring  of 
the  general  landscape  with  most  agreeable,  even 
inspiriting  effects.  This  and  another  spruce  often 
throw  themselves  into  a  very  charming  form  of 
growth;  gathering  around  an  old  pine,  they  will 
shoot  up  numerous  spires,  thin  and  tall,  thicker 
and  shorter,  and  so  shade  down  to  a  close,  spread- 
ing mass  in  a  wide  semicircle  around, — a  bit  of 
natural  cathedral-like  posturing  in  tree  and  shrub 
life,  so  often  repeated  as  to  suggest  art,  so  effec- 
tive as  to  call  out  the  delight  and  envy  of  every 
landscape  artist  who  sees  it.  Everywhere  among 
these  high  mountains,  in  barren  rather  than  in 
fertile  spots,  we  unexpectedly  find  the  "  Mahonia 
Holly,"  a  favorite  but  winter  dying  shrub  of  our  east- 
ern lawns ;  they  call  it  here  the  Oregon  grape,  for  it 


64  A    SUMMER   VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

bears  a  little  berry,  and  it  is  evidently  killed  to  the 
root  every  winter,  for  it  gets  only  a  few  inches  of 
growth,  and  I  do  not  find  it  massed  at  all.  But 
in  its  freely  scattered  little  specimens,  its  deep, 
smooth  and  hard  green  leaves  kept  company  with 
us  until  we  had  passed  the  timber  line,  and  come 
out  among  the  snow  fields. 


V. 

THE    MIDDLE    PARK. 

The  Berthoud  Pass— "  Such  a  Getting  Down"  Hill— Our  First 
Night  in  Camp — The  Middle  Park  and  Across  it — An  Indian 
Rescue  and  a  Civilized  Reception — The  Mountain  Raspberries 
— The  Hot  Douche  Springs — Trout  Fishing— Life  with  the 
Ute  Indians. 

HOT  SPRINGS,  Middle  Park,  August,  1868. 
AFTER  three  or  four  hours'  hard  riding,  from'  the 
upper  Clear  Creek,  we  suddenly  came  out  of  the 
trees  into  an  open  space  of  hardy  green,  bordered 
by  snow,  a  gap  or  sag  in  the  mountains, — and  be- 
hold we  are  at  the  top  of  Berthoud  Pass.  The 
waters  of  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  start  from  our 
very  feet;  the  winds  from  the  two  oceans  suck 
through  here  into  each  other's  embrace ;  above  us 
the  mountain  peaks  go  up  sharp  with  snow  and 
rock,  and  shut  in  our  view ;  but  below  and  beyond 
through  wide  and  thick  forests  lies  Middle  Park;  a 
varied  picture  of  plain  and  hill,  with  snowy  peaks 
beyond  and  around.  To  this  point,  at  least,  I  would 
advise  all  pleasure  travelers  to  Colorado  to  come ; 
it  is  a  feasible  excursion  for  any  one  who  can  sit  in 
the  saddle ;  it  can  be  easily  made  with  return  in  a 
day  from  Empire,  Georgetown  or  even  Idaho ;  and 


66  A    SUMMER   VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

it  offers  as  much  of  varied  and  sublime  beauty  in 
mountain  scenery,  as  any  so  comparatively  easy  a 
trip  yet  within  our  experience  possibly  can. 

But  to  follow  us  down  into  the  Park  is  another 
and  tougher  affair ;  the  Colorado  ladies  do  it  occa- 
sionally, but  it  needs  real  strength  and  endurance 
and  an  unfaltering  enthusiasm.  The  descent  is 
sharp  and  rocky,  and  thick  with  timber,  and  worse, 
wet  and  miry.  Bayard  Taylor,  who  came  over  in 
June,  found  the  path  heavy  with  snow,  and  impass- 
able to  any  but  heroic  travelers ;  now  the  snows 
are  gone,  and  it  is  dryer  than  at  any  other  season, 
but  it  is  a  rough  and  hard  descent,  almost  perpen- 
dicular in  steepness  at  times,  and  full  of  treacherous 
holes  of  water  and  mire.  But  we  all  got  through 
without  disaster,  and  found  relief  about  two  o'clock 
in  an  open,  grassy  meadow,  with  a  trout  brook  on  its 
border.  The  order  to  camp  was  grateful ;  animals 
were  turned  loose,  and  we  lolled  in  the  sunshine, 
made  and  drank  coffee,  and  ate  our  lunch  of  bread 
and  butter,  ham  and  canned  peaches. 

But  we  were  not  in  the  Park  yet,  and  after  an 
hour's  rest,  we  remounted  and  moved  on, —  on, 
on,  the  road  seemed  interminable,  through  thick 
woods,  over  frequent  morass  and  occasional  moun- 
tain stream ;  deceptive  in  glimpse  of  park  that  was 
not  the  Park ;  all,  save  our  irrepressible  mountain 
leaders,  weary  with  the  long,  rough  ride,  and  eager 
for  the  end.  It  was  near  dark,  after  traveling  from 
twenty  to  twenty-five  miles  in  all,  when  we  stopped 
for  the  night,  in  the  woods,  just  without  the  open 
section  of  the  Park.  A  bit  of  meadow  with  tall 


COLORADO  I     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.       6/ 

grass  was  at  hand  for  the  animals,  and,  relieved  of 
saddles  and  packs,  away  they  went,  without  let  or 
hindrance,  to  enjoy  it.  The  only  precaution  taken 
is  to  leave  the  lariat,  a  rope  of  twenty  to  thirty  feet 
long,  dragging  at  their  necks,  by  which  to  catch 
them  the  more  easily  in  the  morning.  Only  a  por- 
tion of  the  herd  are  thus  provided,  however.  They 
rarely  stray  away  far  from  camp  ;  and  if  they  should, 
these  people  make  little  of  an  hour  or  two's  hunt  to 
find  them,  which  they  are  quite  sure  of  doing  wher- 
ever the  best  grass  grows.  The  animals  are  pick- 
eted only  when  there  is  danger  from  the  Indians, 
or  a  prompt  start  is  necessary. 

A  big  fire  is  soon  blazing;  a  part  prepare  the 
supper, — tea  and  coffee,  bacon,  trout,  potatoes,  good 
bread  and  butter,  and,  to-night,  a  grouse  soup,  the 
best  use  Governor  Hunt  can  make  of  an  old  bird 
he  shot  on  the  road,  to-day,  and  very  good  use  it 
proved,  too,  by  help  of  tin  pail,  potatoes  and  butter; 
— others  feed  the  fire,  bring  the  water,  and  prepare 
the  camp  for  sleeping.  An  old  canvass  cloth  serves 
for  table ;  we  squat  on  our  blankets  around  it,  and 
with  tin  cups,  tin  plates,  knife  and  fork  and  spoon, 
take  what  is  put  before  us,  and  are  more  than  con- 
tent. Eating  rises  to  a  spiritual  enjoyment  after 
such  a  day;  and  the  Trois  Freres  or  Delmonico  does 
not  offer  a  "squarer  meal"  than  Governor  Hunt. 
The  "world's  people"  make  their  beds  against  a 
huge  tree,  and  cut  and  plant  boughs  around  the 
heads  to  keep  out  the  cold  wind ;  but  the  old  camp- 
ers drop  their  blankets  anywhere  around  the  fire ; 
and  after  going  back  over  the  day  and  forward  to 


68  A    SUMMER   VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

the  morrow  in  pleasant  chat,  sitting  around  the 
glowing  mass  of  flame  and  coal,  we  crawl  in  under 
our  blankets,  in  a  grand  circle  about  the  now  smoul- 
dering logs,  say  our  prayers  to  the  twinkling  stars 
up  through  the  trees,  and, — think  of  those  new 
spring  beds  invented  in  Springfield! 

We  broke  up  housekeeping  and  started  into  the 
Park  by  nine  o'clock  the  next  morning.  It  isn't 
an  easy  matter  to  make  an  earlier  start,  when  we 
have  to  carry  our  homes  with  us;  cook  and  eat 
breakfast ;  wash  the  dishes ;  catch  the  animals ; 
pack  up  beds  and  provisions ;  clean  up  camp,  and 
reconstruct  not  only  for  a  day's  journey,  but  for  a 
family  moving.  A  short  ride  brought  us  into  miles 
of  clear  prairie,  with  grass  one  to  two  feet  high,  and 
hearty  streams  struggling  to  be  first  into  the  Pa- 
cific Ocean.  This  was  the  Middle  Park,  and  we 
had  a  long  twenty-five  miles  ride  northerly  through 
it  that  day.  It  was  not  monotonous  by  any  means. 
Frequent  ranges  of  hills  break  the  prairie ;  the 
latter  changes  from  rich  bottom  lands  with  heavy 
grass,  to  light,  cold  gravelly  uplands,  thin  with 
bunch  grass  and  sage  bush ;  sluggish  streams  and 
quick  streams  alternate ;  belts  of  hardy  pines  and 
tender  looking  aspens  (cotton-wood)  lie  along  the 
crests  or  sides  of  hills  ;  farther  away  are  higher 
hills  fully  wooded,  and  still  beyond,  "the  range " 
that  bounds  the  Park  and  circles  it  with  eternal 
snows.  The  sun  shines  warm  ;  there  are  wide  red- 
dish walls  of  granite  or  sandstone  along  many  of 
the  hills ;  some  of  the  intervales  are  rich  with  green 
grass ;  and  the  sky  is  deep  blue ;  and  yet  the  pre- 


COLORADO  :    ITS    PARKS   AND    MOUNTAINS.       69 

vailing  tone  and  impression  of  the  Park  is  a  coldish 
gray.  You  find  it  on  the  earth ;  you  see  it  in  the 
subdued,  tempered, .  or  faded  greens  of  leaf  and 
shrub  and  grass ;  it  hangs  over  the  distant  moun- 
tains ;  it  prevails  in  the  rocks ;  you  feel  it  in  the 
air, — a  certain  sort  of  stintedness  or  withholding 
impresses  you,  amid  the  magnificence- of  distance, 
of  hight  and  breadth  and  length,  with  which  you 
are  surrounded,  and  which  is  the  first  and  greatest 
and  most  constant  thought  of  the  presence. 

We  scattered  along  wildly  enough ;  some  stop- 
ping to  catch  trout;  others  humoring  lazy  mules 
and  horses ;  others  to  enjoy  at  leisure  the  novel  sur- 
roundings,— meeting,  with  fellow-feeling,  for  lunch 
and  the  noon  rest,  but  dividing  again  for  the  after- 
noon ride.  All  had  gone  before, — leaders,  guides, 
packs,  and  were  out  of  sight, — when  my  friend  and 
especial  companion  on  this  trip,  Mr.  Hawkins  of 
Mill  City,  of  Springfield  raising  and  relation,  and 
myself  rose  over  the  hill  that  looked  down  into 
the  valley  that  was  our  destination.  It  was  a 
broad,  fine  vision.  Right  and  left,  several  miles 
apart,  ran  miniature  mountain  ranges, — before,  six 
miles  away,  rose  an  abrupt  gray  mountain  wall ; 
just  beneath  it,  through  green  meadow,  ran  the 
Grand  River;  up  to  us  a  smooth,  clean,  gradual 
ascent ;  along  the  river  bank,  a  hundred  white 
tents,  like  dots  in  the  distance,  showed  the  en- 
campment of  six  to  eight  hundred  Ute  Indians, 
awaiting  our  party  with  "heap  hungry"  stomachs; 
in  the  upper  farther  corner,  under  the  hill-s;de,  a 
faint  mist  and  steam  in  the  air  located  the  famous 


7O  A   SUMMER   VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

Hot  Springs  of  the  Middle  Park, — the  whole  as 
complete  a  picture  of  broad,  open  plain,  set  in 
mountain  frame,  as  one  would  dream  of.  It  spur- 
red our  lagging  spirits,  and  we  galloped  down  the 
long  plane,  whose  six  miles  seemed  to  the  eye  not 
a  third  so  long  in  this  dry,  pure  air. 

Reaching  the  river,  through  the  Indian  encamp- 
ment, whose  mongrel  curs  alone  gave  fighting  greet- 
ing, it  looked  deep  and  was  boisterous ;  our  animals 
hesitated ;  and  we  thought  sympathetically  of  Bay- 
ard Taylor's  sad  fortune  in  making  this  hard  jour- 
ney into  the  Middle  Park  to  see  and  try  the  Hot 
Springs,  and  then  being  obliged  by  the  flood  to 
content  himself  with  a  distant  view  from  this  bank 
of  the  river.  But  our  comrades  had  gone  over; 
and  the  only  question  was  where.  Looking  for 
their  track,  directly  there  came  galloping  to  our 
relief  a  gayly  costumed  Indian  princess, — we  were 
sure  she  was, — bare-backed  for  her  haste  to  succor, 
and  full  of  sweet  sympathy  for  our  anxiety,  and 
tender  smiles  for  our — attractiveness  in  misfor- 
tune. Plunging  boldly  into  what  seemed  to  us 
the  deepest  and  swiftest  part  of  the  stream, — as 
doubtless  it  was, — she  beckoned  us  to  follow,  with 
every  enticing  expression  of  eye  and  lips  and  hand ; 
and  follow  we,  of  course,  did, — had  it  been  more 
dangerous  we  should, — and  by  folding  ourselves  up 
on  the  highest  parts  of  our  animals,  we  got  through 
without  serious  wetting.  But  it  proved  that  we 
crossed  in  the  wrong  place,  and  that  our  beautiful 
Indian  princess,  with  beads  and  feathers  and  bright 
eyes  and  seductive  ways,  was  only  a  plain  young 


COLORADO:   ITS  PARKS  AND  MOUNTAINS.     71 

"  buck," — not  even  a  maiden,  not  so  much  as  a 
squaw,  not,  to  come  down  to  the  worst  at  once,  so 
near  to  glory  and  gallantry  as  a  relationship  to  the 
Chief.  Nothing  less  than  the  welcome  we  had 

from  one  of  the  best  women  of  Colorado, — whom 

\ 

we?  parted  from  last  in  Fifth  Avenue,  and  now 
found  spending  the  summer  with  her  family  in  a 
log  cabin  of  one  room,  with  eight  hundred  Indians 
for  her  only  neighbors, — and  the  arrival  of  her 
husband  from  his  afternoon's  fishing  with  two 
bushels  of  fine  trout  packed  over  his  horse's  back, 
— here  only  was  adequate  soothing  and  consolation 
for  our  chagrin.  And  we  didn't  go  into  camp  that 
night  till  after  supper, —after  supper  of  fresh  bis- 
cuits, fried  trout,  and  mountain  raspberries ! 

Let  me  celebrate  these  high  mountain  rasp- 
berries before  the  taste  goes  from  my  mouth. 
They  grow  freely  on  the  hill-sides,  from  seven 
thousand  >to  ten  thousand  feet  up,  on  bushes 
from  six  to  eighteen  inches  high,  are  small  and 
red,  and  the  only  wild  fruit  of  the  region  worth 
eating.  They  are  delicate  and  high-flavored  to 
extreme ;  their  mountain  home  refines  and  ele- 
vates them  into  the  very  concentration  and  es- 
sence of  all  fruitiness;  they  not  only  tickle  but 
intoxicate  the  palate, — so  wild  and  aromatic,  in- 
deed, are  they  that  they  need  some  sugar  to  tone 
the  flavor  down  to  the  despiritualized  sense  of  a 
cultivated  taste.  Yet  they  are  not  so  sour  as  to 
require  sweetening, — only  too  high-toned  for  the 
stranger  stomach;  after  sharing  their  native  air 
a  few  days,  we  found  them  best  picked  and  eaten 


72  A    SUMMER   VACATION    IN    CANP. 

from  the  vines.  It  is  one  of  the  motives  of  family 
excursion  parties  into  the  mountains  at  this  season 
to  lay  in  a  supply  of  raspberry  jam  for  the  year; 
while  the  men  catch  trout,  the  women  pick  rasp- 
berries, cook  and  sugar  them  in  the  camp-kettle, 
and  go  home  laden  with  this  rare  fruity  sweet- 
meat. Here  in  the  Middle  Park  we  were  kept  in 
full  supply  of  the  fresh  fruit  by  the  Ute  squaws, 
who,  going  off  into  the  hills  in  the  morning,  often 
two  together  astride  the  same  pony,  and  a  little 
papoose  strapped  on  its  board  over  the  back  of 
one,  would  come  back  at  night  with  cups  and  pails 
of  the  berries  to  exchange  with  the  whites  for  their 
own  two  great  weaknesses,  sugar  and  biscuit.  But 
the  bears  get  the  most  of  the  raspberries  so  far. 
They  are  at  home  with  them  during  all  the  season, 
and  can  pick  and  eat  at  leisure. 

The  Hot  Springs  of  the  Middle  Park  are  both 
a  curiosity  and  a  virtue.  They  are  a  considerable 
resort  already  by  Coloradians  at  this  season,  and 
when  convenient  roads  are  made  over  into  the  Park, 
there  will  be  a  great  flow  of  visitors  to  them.  We 
found  twenty  or  thirty  other  visitors  here,  scattered 
about  in  the  neighborhood,  while  parties  were  com- 
ing and  going  every  day.  The  springs  for  bathing, 
and  the  rivers  for  fishing,  are  the  two  great  attrac- 
tions. On  the  hill-side,  fifty  feet  above  the  Grand 
River,  and  a  dozen  rods  away,  these  hot  sulphurous 
waters  bubble  up  at  three  or  four  different  places 
within  a  few  feet,  and  coming  together  into  one 
stream  flow  over  an  abrupt  bank,  say  a  dozen  feet 
high,  into  a  little  circular  pool  or  basin  below. 


COLORADO  :     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.        73 

Thence  the  waters  scatter  off  into  the  river.  But 
the  pool  and  the  fall  unite  to  make  a  charming 
natural  bathing-house.  You  are  provided  with  a 
hot  sitz  bath  and  douche  together.  The  stream 
that  pours  over  the  precipice  into  the  pool  is  about 
as  large  as  would  flow  out  of  a  full  water  pail  turned 
over,  making  a  stream  three  to  five  inches  in  diame- 
ter. The  water  is  so  hot  that  you  cannot  at  first 
bear  your  hand  in  it,  being  110°  Fahrenheit  in 
temperature,  and  the  blow  of  the  falling  water  and 
its  almost  scalding  heat  send  the  bather  shrieking 
out  on  his  first  trial  of  them  ;  but  with  light  experi- 
ments, first  an  arm,  then  a  leg,  and  next  a  shoulder, 
he  gradually  gets  accustomed  to  both  heat  and  fall, 
and  can  stand  directly  under  the  stream  without 
flinching,  and  then  he  has  such  a  bath  as  he  can 
find  nowhere  else  in  the  world.  The  invigorating 
effects  are  wonderful;  there  is  no  lassitude,  no  chill 
from  it,  as  is  usually  experienced  after  an  ordinary 
hot  bath  elsewhere ;  though  the  water  be  1 10°  warm, 
and  the  air  30°  to  40°  cold,  the  shock  of  the  fall  is 
such  a  tonic,  and  the  atmosphere  itself  is  so  dry  and 
inspiring,  that  no  reaction,  no  unfavorable  effects 
are  felt,  even  by  feeble  persons,  in  coming  from  one 
into  the  other.  The  first  thing  in  the  morning,  the 
last  at  night  did  we  renew  our  trial  of  this  hot 
douche  bath  during  our  brief  stay  in  the  neighbor- 
hood, and  the  old  grew  young  and  the  young  joyous 
and  rampant  from  the  experience.  Wonderful  cures 
are  related  as  having  been  effected  by  these  springs ; 
the  Indians  resort  to  them  a  good  deal,  put  their 
sick  horses  into  them,  and  arc  loth  to  yield  control 

4 


74  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

of  them  to  the  whites ;  and  in  view  of  their  proba- 
ble future  value,  there  has  been  a  struggle  among 
the  latter  for  their  ownership.  They  are  now  in 
the  hands  of  Mr.  Byers  of  the  Rocky  Mountain 
News  at  Denver,  under  a. title  that  will  probably 
defy  all  disputants.  The  waters  look  and  taste 
precisely  like  those  of  the  Sharon  Sulphur  Springs 
in  New  York.  The  difference  is  that  these  are 
hot,  those  cold.  They  have  deposited  sulphur,  iron 
and  soda  in  quantity  all  about  their  path,  and  these 
are  their  probable  chief  ingredients. 

Over  a  little  hill  from  the  springs,  by  the  side  of 
the  Grand  River, — the  hill,  the  stream,  and  a  half 
mile  between  us  and  the  Indian  encampment, — 
we  settled  down  in  camp  for  two  days  and  a  half, 
studying  Indian  life,  catching  and  eating  trout,  tak- 
ing hot  douche  baths  in  the  springs,  and  making 
excursions  over  the  neighboring  hills  into  side  val- 
leys. The  river  before  us  offered  good  fishing,  but 
better  was  to  be  found  in  Williams  Fork,  a  smaller 
stream  a  few  miles  below,  where  a  half  day's  sport 
brought  back  from  forty  to  sixty  pounds  of  as  fine 
speckled  trout  as  ever  came  from  brooks  or  lakes 
of  New  England.  They  ranged  from  a  quarter  of 
a  pound  up  to  two  pounds  weight  each,  and  we  had 
them  at  every  meal. 

The  Indians  were  very  neighborly ;  hill,  stream 
and  distance  were  no  impediment  to  their  atten- 
tions ;  their  ponies  would  gallop  with  them  over  all 
in  five  minutes ;  and  from  two  to  a  dozen,  men  and 
boys,  never  the  squaws,  were  hanging  about  our 
camp  fires  from  early  morning  till  late  evening. 


COLORADO  :     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.       75 

Curiosity,  begging  and  good-fellowship  were  their 
only  apparent  motives;  they  did  no  mischief;  they 
1  stole  nothing,  though  food  and  clothing,  pistols  and 
knives,  things  they  coveted  and  needed  above  all 
else,  were  loosely  scattered  about  within  reach ; 
they  only  became  a  nuisance  by  being  everlastingly 
in  the  way  and  spoiling  the  enjoyment  of  one's 
food  by  their  wistful  observation.  Mrs.  Browning 
says,  you  remember,  that  observation,  which  is  not 
sympathy,  is  simply  torture.  And  not  a  bit  of  sym- 
pathy did  they  show  in  our  eating  except  as  they 
shared.  We 'were  as  liberal  as  our  limited  stores 
would  allow;  but  the  capacity  of  a  single  Indian's 
stomach  is  boundless ;  what  could  we  do  for  the 
hundreds? 

These  Utes  are  a  good  deal  higher  grade  of  In- 
dian than  I  had  supposed.  They  are  above  the 
average  of  our  Indian  tribes  in  comeliness  and  in- 
telligence; and  none  perhaps  are  better  behaved 
or  more  amenable  to  direction  from  the  whites. 
There  are  seven  different  bands  or  tribes  of  them, 
who  occupy  the  mountains  and  parks  of  Colorado 
and  adjoining  sections  of  New  Mexico  and  Utah. 
The  bands  number  from  five  hundred  to  one  thou- 
sand each.  This  one  consisted  of  about  seventy- 
five  " lodges"  or  families,  each  represented  by  artent 
of  cloth  stretched  over  a  bunch  of  poles  gathered 
at  the  top,  and  spreading  around  in  a  small  circle. 
The  poles  leave  a  hole  in  the  top  for  the  smoke  of 
a  fire  in  the  center  beneath,  and  around  which  the 
family  squat  on  their  blankets  and  pile  their  stores 
of  food  and  skins  and  clothing.  Probably  there 


76  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

were  six  hundred  in  the  camp  near  us,  men,  women 
and  children.  They  look  frailer  and  feebler  than 
you  would  expect;  I  did  not  see  a  single  Indian' 
who  was  six  feet  high  or  would  weigh  over  one 
Hundred  and  seventy-five  pounds ;  they  are  all,  in- 
deed, under  size,  and  no  match  in  nervous  or  phys- 
ical force  for  the  average  white  man.  Some  of  both 
sexes  are  of  very  comely  appearance,  with  fine  hands 
and  delicate  feet,  and  shapely  limbs,  with  a  bright 
mulatto  complexion,  and  clear,  piercing  eyes ;  but 
their  square  heads,  coarse  hair,  hideous  daubs  of 
yellow  and  red  paint  on  the  cheek  and  forehead, 
and  motley  raiment, — here  a  white  man's  cast-off 
hat,  coat  or  pantaloons,  if  squaw  a  shabby  old  gown 
of  calico  or  shirt  of  white  cloth,  alternate  with  In- 
dian leggins  and  moccasins,  bare  legs  and  feet,  a 
dirty  white  or  flaming  red  blanket,  beaded  jacket 
of  leather,  feathers,  and  brass  or  tin  trinkets  hang- 
ing on  the  head,  from  the  ears,  down  the  back  or 
breast, — all  these  disorderly  and  unaccustomed  com- 
binations give  them  at  first  a  repulsive  and  finally 
a  very  absurd  appearance.  The  squaws  seem  to 
be  kept  in  the  background,  and,  except  when  brides 
or  the  wives  of  a  chief,  dress  much  more  plainly 
and  shabbily  than  the  bucks.  They  are  all  more 
modest  and  deferential  in  appearance  and  manners 
than  would  be  expected ;  and  I  saw  no  evidence  of 
or  taste  for  strong  drink  among  this  tribe, — none 
of  them  ever  asked  for  it,  while  their  desire  for  food, 
especially  for  sugar  and  biscuit,  was  always  mani- 
fest. The  sugar  they  gobble  up  without  qualifica- 
tion, and  such  unnatural  food  as  this  and  fine  flour 


COLORADO  I     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.        // 

breed  diseases  and  weaknesses  that  are  already  de- 
stroying the  race.  Coughs  are  frequent,  and  dys- 
pepsia ;  sickness  and  deaths  are  quite  common 
among  the  children ;  and  this  incongruous  mixture 
of  white  man's  food  and  raiment  and  life  with  their 
own,  which  their  contact  with  civilization  has  led 
them  into,  is  sapping  their  vitality  at  its  fountains. 
To  make  matters  the  worse,  they  have  got  hold  of 
our  quack  medicines,  and  are  great  customers  for 
Brandreth  and  other  pills,  with  the  vain  hope  of 
curing  their  maladies.  In  short,  they  are  simple, 
savage  children,  and  in  that  definition  we  find  sug- 
gesteH  the  only  proper  way  for  the  government  to 
treat  them. 

Their  wealth  consists  in  their  horses,  which  they 
breed  or  steal  from  their  enemies  of  other  tribes, 
and  of  which  this  tribe  in  the  Middle  Park  must 
have  a  couple  of  hundred.  They  live  on  the  game 
they  can  find  in  the  parks  and  among  the  moun- 
tains, moving  from  one  spot  to  another,  as  seasons 
and  years  change,  the  proceeds  of  the  skins  of  the 
deer  and  other  animals  they  kill,  roots,  nuts  and 
berries,  and  the  gifts  of  the  government  and  the 
settlers.  It  is  altogether  even  a  precarious  and 
hard  reliance ;  the  game  is  fast  disappearing, — save 
of  trout  we  have  not  seen  enough  in  all  our  trav- 
els, among  the  mountains  to  feed  our  small  party 
upon,  if  it  had  all  been  caught ;  and  the  govern- 
ment agents  are  not  always  to  be  depended  upon 
in  making  up  deficiencies.  Our  neighbors  had 
lately  come  over  from  the  North  Park,  where  they 
had  hunted  antelope  to  some  purpose  and  with 


78  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

rare  fortune,  killing  four  thousand  in  all  in  two 
or  three  weeks,  half  of  them  in  a  single  grand 
hunt.  They  cut  the  meat  into  thin  slices  and 
dry  it,  so  that  it  looks  like  strips  of  old  leather ; 
and  as  we  went  about  their  camp  we  saw  the 
little,  weakly  children  pulling  away  at  bits  of  it, 
apparently  with  not  very  satisfactory  results.  Our 
tribe  was  in  trouble  about  a  chief;  the  old  one  was 
dead,  and  there  were  two  or  three  contestants  for 
the  succession ;  but  the  wrangle  was  not  half  so 
fierce  as  would  arise  over  a  contested  election  for 
mayor  of  a  white  man's  city. 

Affairs  always  seemed  very  quiet  in  the  Indian 
camp  in  the  day-time ;  the  braves  played  cards,  or 
did  a  little  hunting;  the  squaws  gathered  wood, 
tanned  skins,  braided  lariats,  or  made  fantastic 
leather  garments  ;  the  boys  chased  the  ponies ;  but 
at  night  they  as  invariably  appeared  to  be  having  a 
grand  pow-wow,— rude  music  and  loud  shouting 
rolled  up  to  our  camp  a  volume  of  coarse  sound 
that  at  first  seemed  frightful,  as  if  the  preparatory 
war-whoop  for  a  grand  scalping  of  their  white 
neighbors,  but  which  we  learned  to  regard  as  the 
most  innocent  of  barbaric  amusements.  Though 
these  Utes  are  quite  peaceful  and  even  long-suffer- 
ing towards  the  whites,  they  bear  eternal  enmity 
to  the  Indian  tribes  of  the  Plains,  and  are  always 
ready  to  have  a  fight  with  them.  Each  party  is 
strongest  on  its  own  territory,  —  the  Arapahoes, 
Comanches  and  Cheyennes  on  the  prairies,  and 
the  Utes  among  the  hills ;  and  each,  while  eager 
to  receive  the  party  of  the  other  part  at  home, 


COLORADO  :     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.        79 

rarely  go  a-visiting.  The  Plains  Indians  are  better 
mounted  and  better  armed ;  chiefly  because,  keep- 
ing up  nearly  constant  warfare  with  the  whites, 
they  have  exacted  prompter  presents  and  larger 
pay  from  the  government.  The  Utes  complain, 
and  with  reason,  that  their  friendliness  causes 
them  to.  be  neglected  and  cheated  ;  while  their 
and  our  enemies  thrive  on  government  bounty. 

There  is  now  a  plan  for  all  the  Ute  tribes  to  go 
together  into  the  south-western  corner  of  Colorado, 
away  from  the  mines  and  the  whites,  and  there, 
upon  abundant  pastures  and  fruitful  mountains,  en- 
gage in  a  pastoral  and  half  agricultural  life ;  to  set 
up  stock-raising  on  a  large  scale,  and  such  tillage  as 
they  can  bring  themselves  to,  under  the  protection 
and  aid  of  the  government.  The  scheme  is  a  good 
one;  the  Indians  agree  to  it;  and  the  bargain  has 
been  made  by  the  government  agents  here, — all  that 
is  needed  is  for  the  authorities  at  Washington  to  fur- 
nish the  means  for  carrying  it  into  execution.  So 
far  as  our  observation  extends,  the  greatest  trouble 
with  our  Indian  matters  lies  at  Washington;  the 
chief  of  the  cheating  and  stupidity  gathers  there ; 
while  the  Indian  agents  here  upon  the  ground  are, 
if  not  immaculate,  certainly  more  intelligent,  sensi- 
ble; and  practical,  and  truer  to  the  good  of  the  set- 
tler and  the  Indian  than  their  superiors  at  the  seat 
of  government. 


VI. 

FROM  MIDDLE  PARK  BY  BOULDER  PASS. 

The  Longing  Lingering  in  Middle  Park — Professor  Powell  and  his 
Explorations — The  Canyon  of  the  Colorado — Over  the  Boulder 
Pass  in  a  Snow  Storm — A  Cold  Night  and  a  Warm  Noon  Camp 
— Night  in  a  Barn — By  Boulder  and  Central  to  Mill  City  and 
Georgetown. 

MILL  CITY,  Colorado,  August,  1868. 
WE  were  loth  to  leave  the  Middle  Park.  I 
counted  the  hot  douche  sulphur  baths,  and  tried 
to  multiply  them  by  six,  then  by  two ;  but  it  was 
of  no  use,— the  Vice-President  travels  by  time- 
table ;  and  the  ladies  were  in  Denver,  and  the 
grand  expedition  to  South  Park  was  ahead.  I 
looked  longingly  through  the  hills  up  the  valley 
of  the  Grand ;  beyond  I  knew  there  lay  a  wilder 
country  than  we  had  seen,  and  under  the  shadow 
of  Long's  Peak,  Grand  Lake  itself,  a  large  and  fine 
sheet  of  water,  alive  with  trout,  and  rich  in  com- 
manding beauty.  We  galloped  over  the  bare  hills 
the  other  way,  and  looked  off  down  the  valley. 
Bits  of  rare  stone,  agates  and  jaspers  and  crystals 
and  petrifactions,  lay  everywhere  about ;  and  over 
the  river,  a  dozen  miles  off,  was  the  famous  "  moss 
agate  patch,"  where  these  peculiar  crystallizations 
covered  the  ground;  Williams  Fork  came  rollick- 


COLORADO:    ITS  PARKS  AND  MOUNTAINS.      81 

ing  down  the  opposite  hill-sides  through  a  line  of 
trees,  with  innumerable  breakfasts  of  uncaught 
trout,  and  a  wide  green  meadow  at  the  mouth  for 
camping  ground;  while  far  on  in  the  landscape, 
the  Grand  found  magnificent  pathway  for  twenty- 
five  miles  through  a  broad  field  of  heavy  grass, — 
the  gem,  the  kernel  of  the  Middle  Park ;  then 
turning  abruptly  west,  it  shot  through  the  moun- 
tains by  a  canyon,  lapped  up  the  Blue  on  the  other 
side,  and,  thus  strengthened,  poured  out  southward 
for  the  Colorado  and  the  Pacific  Ocean.  It  was 
this  way  we  should  have  gone  out,  —  down  the 
Grand  and  up  the  Blue,  all  within  the  capacious 
boundaries  of  the  Middle  Park, — but  time  and  the 
provision  bag  forbade.  Yet  there  was  nothing  in- 
viting in  the  return  by  the  Berthoud  Pass ;  there 
could  be  nothing  worse  than  its  mire  and  its  rough 
ascent ;  another  way  would  at  least  be  new, — and 
we  voted  to  go  out  by  its  rival  for  a  railroad  track, 
the  Boulder  Pass.  The  Governor  (Hunt)  and  the 
Indian  agent,  finding  their  talk  with  the  Indians 
not  eloquent  enough  to  convince  by  lack  of  food 
and  blankets,  had  gone  back  by  the  old  route, 
taking  a  dozen  or  twenty  of  the  leading  braves 
with  them,  to  seek  arguments  where  the  freight 
was  not  so  expensive.  The  Indian  sees  the  point 
of  an  idea  always  through  a  full  stomach  and  a 
warm  back,  and  it  required  a  whole  beef  and  sev- 
eral barrels  of  flour  and  sugar  and  a  dozen  blankets 
to  prove  to  them  that  a  petty  technical  amendment 
by  the  Senate  to  their  last  treaty  was  just  right. 
We  had  made  familiar  and  friendly  acquaintance 


82  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

with  Professor  Powell's  scientific  exploring  party, 
from  Illinois,  while  in  the  Middle  Park.  They  were 
in  camp  there  for  some  time,  and  made  it  the  end 
of  their  summer  and  the  beginning  of  their  winter 
campaign.  The  party  comprises  a  dozen  or  more 
enthusiastic  young  men,  interested  in  one  depart- 
ment or  other  of  natural  science,  or  eager  for  bor- 
der experiences,  mostly  from  Illinois,  and  giving 
their  time  and  labor  to  the  expedition  for  the  sake 
of  the  education  and  the  health.  Professor  Powell, 
the  originator  and  head,  does  more;  the  govern- 
ment furnishes  food,  allowing  it  to  be  drawn  from 
the  supplies  of  the  nearest  post,  and  the  Illinois 
University  and  Natural  History  Society  contribute 
small  sums  of  money ;  but  he  draws  upon  his  pri- 
vate purse  for  all  deficiencies,  and  these  must  be 
many  thousands  of  dollars  before  he  gets  through. 
The  summer  has  been  spent  among  the  higher 
Mountains  and  in  the  Parks,  taking  careful  notes 
with  barometer  and  thermometer,  collecting  flowers 
and  birds  and  larger  animals,  and  studying  the  rare 
geological  phenomena  of  the  country.  Their  col- 
lection of  birds  is  very  full  and  valuable,  and  num- 
bers over  two  hundred  different  specimens. 

Professor  Powell,  two  or  three  of  his  assistants, 
and  Mr.  Byers,  of  the  Denver  News,  who  knows  all 
these  mountains  better  than  any  other  man,  proba- 
bly, have  just  accomplished  the  ascent  of  Long's 
Peak.  This  is  the  prominent  north-eastern  moun- 
tain of  the  Coloradian  series,  is  seen  from  the  Rail- 
road, and  is  fourteen  thousand  feet  high,  and  has 
heretofore  defied  all  the  efforts  of  explorers  and- 


COLORADO  I     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.       83 

mountaineers  to  reach  its  top.  They  had  a  terribly 
hard  climb  of  it,  but  felt  amply  paid  in  the  glory 
of  the  fact,  and  more  in  the  glory  of  the  landscape 
spread  before  them  at  the  summit.  The  plains  and 
mountains  to  the  north  beyond  the  Railroad,  the 
unending  eastern  plains,  with  Denver  and  the  in- 
tervening settlements  below  and  to  the  south,  the 
whole  of  Middle  Park,  and  the  surrounding  and  far- 
beyond  mountains, —  all  Colorado,  as  it  were,  and 
part  of  Wyoming,  lay  beneath  their  eyes.  Streams 
flowed  out  from  the  mountain  in  all  directions,  and 
no  fewer  than  thirty-nine  lakes  on  that  and  the 
neighboring  mountain  sides,  nearly  all  of  and  above 
the  altitude  of  ten  thousand  feet,  were  visible  from 
their  commanding  hight. 

From  here  the  explorers  will  follow  down  the 
Grand  River,  out  of  the  Park  into  western  Colo- 
rado, and  then  strike  across  to  the  other  and  larger 
branch  of  the  great  Colorado  River,  the  Green,  and 
upon  that  or  some  of  its  branches,  near  the  line  of 
Utah,  spend  the  winter  in  camp,  studying  up  their 
past  achievements,  and  preparing  for  the  next  sum- 
mer's campaign.  The  great  and  final  object  of  the 
expedition  is  to  explore  the  upper  Colorado  River 
and  solve  the  mysteries  of  its  three  hundred  mile 
canyon.  They  will  probably  undertake  this  next 
season  by  boats  and  rafts  from  their  winter  camp 
on  the  Green ;  but  they  may  postpone  the  adven- 
ture till  another  year,  and  meantime  discover  and 
reveal  the  mountains  and  plains  of  western  Colo- 
rado and  eastern  Utah,  which  are  so  little  known. 
But  the  mocking  ignorance  and  fascinating  reports 


84  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

of  the  course  and  country  of  the  Colorado  ought 
to  hasten  them  to  this  interesting  field.  The  maps 
from  Washington,  that  put  down  only  what  is  abso- 
lutely, scientifically  known,  leave  a  great  blank  space 
here  of  three  hundred  to  five  hundred  miles  long 
and  one  hundred  to  two  hundred  miles  broad.  Is 
any  other  nation  so  ignorant  of  itself?  All  that 
we  do  know  goes  to  show  that,  beginning  with  the 
union  of  the  Grand  and  the  Green  Rivers,  the  Colo- 
rado is  confined  for  three  hundred  miles  within  per- 
pendicular walls  of  rock  averaging  three  thousand 
feet  high,  up  which  no  one  can  climb,  down  which 
no  one  can  safely  go,  and  between  which  in  the 
river,  rapids  and  falls  and  furious  eddies  render 
passage  frightful,  certainly  dangerous,  possibly  im- 
possible. 

The  general  conviction  of  the  border  population 
is  that  whoever  dares  venture  into  this  canyon  will 
never  come  out  alive.  But  we  have  an  authentic 
account  this  season  of  a  man  who  made  the  trip 
last  year  and  lives  to  tell  the  tale.  He  and  a  com- 
panion, prospecting  for  gold  in  south-western  Col- 
orado, and  driven  by  Indians,  took  to  the  Grand 
River  just  before  its  union  with  the  Green,  made 
a  raft  and  committed  themselves  to  the  waters. 
Foaming  rapids  and  a  whirlpool  swept  the  com- 
panion and  all  the  provisions  off,  and  they  were 
lost,  while  White,  the  surviving  hero's  name,  with- 
out food,  passed  seven  days  more,  a  second  seven 
days,  upon  these  strange  waters,  between  frowning 
walls,  over  dangerous  rapids,  through  delaying  ed- 
dies, before  he  reached  Callville  in  Arizona,  the 


COLORADO  :     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.        85 

first  settlement  and  the  head  of  navigation  on  the 
river.  His  entire  journey  upon  the  river  must 
have  exceeded  five  hundred  miles,  and  he  repre- 
sents that  for  most  of  the  distance  it  was  through 
these  traditional  high  walls,  impassable  as  a  for- 
tress, a  dungeon  over  a  cataract. 

Nearly  all  of  the  rivers  of  Colorado  and  Utah  run 
for  brief  distances,  from  one  to  twenty-five  miles, 
through  these  gorges  of  rock ;  or  they  "  canyon," 
as,  by  making  a  verb  out  of  the  Spanish  noun, 
the  people  of  the  country  describe  the  streams  as 
performing  the  feat  of  such  rock  passages,  where 
their  banks  are  inapproachable,  and  trails  or  roads 
are  sent  over  or  around ;  but  this  rock-guarded 
career  of  the  great  river  of  the  interior  basin  of 
the  Continent  is  the  grand  canyon  of  the  world, 
and  one  of  its  most  wonderful  marvels.  Its  passage 
in  well  protected  boats  by  careful  navigators  can 
scarcely  be  deemed  impracticable,  Jiowever  dan- 
gerous, and  the  country  will  await  the  Powell  move- 
ment through  it  with  eager  interest. 

The  whole  field  of  observation  and  inquiry  which 
Professor  Powell  has  undertaken  is  more  interest- 
ing and  important  than  any  which  lies  before  our 
men  of  science.  The  wonder  is  they  have  neg- 
lected it  so  long.  Here  are  seen  the  central  forces 
that  formed  the  Continent ;  here  more  striking 
studies  in  physical  geography,  geology,  and  natural 
history,  than  are  proffered  anywhere  else  New 
knowledge  and  wide  honors  await  those  who  cata- 
logue and  define  them.  I  can  but  think  the  in- 
quiry, vast  and  important  as  it  is,  is  fortunate  in  its 


86  A    SUMMER   VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

inquirer.  Professor  Powell  is  well  educated,  an  en- 
thusiast, resolute,  a  gallant  leader,  as  his  other  title 
of  Major  and  an  absent  arm,  won  and  lost  in  the 
war,  testify, —  seemingly  well-endowed  physically 
and  mentally  for  the  arduous  work  of  both  body 
and  brains  that  he  has  undertaken.  He  is  every 
way  the  soul,  as  he  is  the  purse  of  the  expedition ; 
he  leads  the  way  in  all  danger  and  difficulty,'  and 
his  wife,  a  true  helpmeet,  and  the  only  woman  with 
the  party,  is  the  first  to  follow. 

But  while  talking  with  the  Professor,  our  re- 
duced party  has  chosen  a  new  leader, — General  R. 
F.  Lord  of  Georgetown,— ^and  is  packed,  bridled 
and  saddled  for  the  start.  We  cross  the  river, 
look  gratefully  and  regretfully  for  the  last  time  on 
the  Hot  Springs,  pass  through  the  Indian  encamp- 
ment, and  go  lingering  back  over  the  long  hill 
that  we  had  galloped  down  so  gladly  three  days 
before.  Two*thirds  the  day's  ride  was  the  same 
we  had  passed  over  in  coming  in ;  then  we  turned 
to  the  left,  the  Boulder  Mountain  lying  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  lower  end  of  the  Park  from 
Berthoud  ;  and  soon  we  pas-sed  into  a  succession  of 
woods  and  open  meadows,  alternating  with  pictur- 
esque effects,  as  we  gradually  ascended  the  moun- 
tain, and  offering  fine  views  of  sections  of  the  Park 
from  occasional  bluffs.  The  grass  was  thicker  and 
greener  than  in  the  more  exposed  parts  of  the  Park ; 
the  pines  and  firs  and  cotton-wood  were  in,  full  va- 
riety and  beauty;  and  the  flowers  grew  gayer, — alto- 
gether it  was  a  pleasanter  country  to  ride  leisurely 
through  than  we  had  yet  met  with. 


COLORADO  :     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.        S/ 

At  the  end  of  some  twenty-five  miles,  we  camped 
for  the  night,  in  the  edge  of  the  woods,  fronting  an 
open  area  of  water-courses,  grass  and  willows,  with 
plenty  of  evidence  that  the  beavers  had  a  settle- 
ment there.  An  old  bower  of  evergreens  was 
cleared  up  and  strengthened  to  lay  our  blankets 
under;  and  big  fires  kept  off  the  cold  of  a  ten 
thousand  feet  elevation,  until  three  to  four  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  when,  by  their  subsidence  and  the 
increasing  chill,  everybody  was  in  a  shiver,  and 
glad  enough  that  an  early  call  to  morning  duty 
soon  summoned  us  up  and  astir.  The  water  was 
freezing,  and  the  grass  and  shrubs  were  stiff  with 
frost,  so  stiff  and  yet  so  dry  from  lack  of  moisture 
in  the  air,  that  neither  then,  nor  after  the  sun  had 
softened  them,  was  there  wet  to  be  won  by  walking 
among  them.  It  was  a  perfectly  dry  freeze,  and 
this  is  why  these  summer  frosts  do  no  more  harm 
to  vegetation,  and  delicate  flowers  thaw  out  and  go  ^ 
on  in  their  sweet  short  life  in  these  high  mountains. 

The  clouds  gathered,  and  the  rain-drops  fell,  as 
we  finished  breakfast  and  packed  and  saddled  for 
the  cold  hard  ride  over  the  mountains.  In  an  hour 
we  were  out  of  the  timber,  and  a  dreary  waste  of 
rock,  relieved  only  by  a  thin  grass  at  first,  then  by 
mosses,  and  always  by  flowers,  lay  before  and  all 
around  us.  The  storm  grew  thick  and  fast,  hail 
and  snow;  the  trail  wasted  itself  in  the  open  area; 
the  ground  was  being  rapidly  covered  with  the 
white  snow;  straggling  was  forbidden,  and  "close 
up"  and  "push  on"  were  the  orders  from  the  front. 
The  promised  view  of  park  and  plains,  of  range  on 


88  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

on  range,  was  lost ;  only  thick,  dark  clouds,  hanging 
over  impenetrable  abysses,  were  around  and  below 
us  ;  the  storm  bit  like  wasps ;  beards  gathered  snow 
and  ice;  the  mules  and  horses  winced  under  the 
blasts, — it  was  a  forlorn  looking  company  for  a 
pleasure  party. 

But  there  was  exhilaration  in  the  unseasonable 
struggle;  there  was  something  jolly  in  the  idea  of 
thus  confounding  the  almanacs,  and'  finding-  Feb- 
ruary in  August.  At  the  summit  of  the  Pass, — 
thirteen  thousand  feet  highf — the  storm  abated  its 
intensity  to  let  us  dismount  and  pick  out  of  the 
snow  the  little  yellow  flowers  that  crept  up  among 
the  rocks  everywhere.  Then  it  rolled  over  again, 
and  now  witK  thunder  and  lightning,  pealing  and 
flashing  close  around  us.  Here  our  laggard  pack 
mules  with  their  drivers  came  hurrying  up  and  for- 
ward; Charley  Utter  saying  as  he  spurred  them  by 
that  perhaps  we  might  like  it,  but  for  him  "hell  was 
pleasanter  and  safer  than  a  thunder-storm  on  the 
range." 

But  as  we  descended  the  elements  calmed;  the 
clouds  opened  visions  of  the  new  valleys,  and  flashes 
of  sunlight  unveiled  the  great  mysteries  of  the  up- 
per mountains.  Summer  was  again  around  us  ;  and 
though  it  was  hardly  noon,  the  spot  we  had  reached 
was  so  rarely  charming,  and  the  sun  so  refreshing, 
that  we  halted,  loosed  our  animals,  made  our  coffee, 
lunched,  and  basked  on  the  rocks  in  the  sunshine 
for  a  long,  delightful  hour.  We  were  on  a  narrow 
crest  of  the  mountain,  shooting  out  into  the  valley, 
and  not  over  twenty  feet  wide.  On  either  side, 


COLORADO  I     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.        89 

there  was  a  sharp  almost  perpendicular  descent  for 
at  least  one  thousand  feet  in  one  case,  and  seven 
hundred  and  fifty  in  the  other.  At  the  foot  on  our 
right  were  two  lovely  lakes,  one  almost  an  absolute 
circle,  rock  and  grass  bound,  fed  by  great  snow- 
banks between  us  and  them,  and  feeding  in  turn 
the  South  Boulder  Creek.  On  our  left,  a  grassy 
slope,  so  steep  that  it  was  impossible  to  walk  down 
except  in  long  zigzags,  and  far  away  at  the  bottom 
among  the  trees  ran  the  North  Boulder  from  out 
the  mountains.  Everywhere  about  us,  where  the 
snow  and  the  rocks  left  space,  were  the  greenest  of 
grass,  the  bluest  of  harebells,  the  reddest  of  paint- 
er's brush,  the  yellowest  of  sunflowers  and  butter- 
cups. All,  with  brightest  of  sun  and  bluest  of  sky, 
made  up  such  a  contrast  to  our  morning  ride  that 
we  were  all  in  raptures  with  the  various  beauties  of 
the  scene,  and  feel  still  that  no  spot  in  all  our  travel 
is  more  sacred  to  beauty  than  this  of  our  noon  camp 
on  Boulder. 

But,  as  if  to  frame  and  fasten  the  picture  still 
more  strongly,  we  were  hardly  in  the  saddle  again, 
before  the  storm  set  in  anew,  and  we  rode  all  the 
afternoon  under  snow  or  rain.  There  is  what  is 
called  a  road  over  into  Middle  Park  by  this  Pass, 
and  strong  wagons  with  oxen  or  mules  make  the 
passage;  but  the  difficulties  they  encounter  are 
frightful, — mud  and  rocks,  rivers  and  ravines, — it 
is»hard  to  imagine^  how  any  wheels  can  surmount 
them  and  remain  whole, — and  few  do.  Our  trail 
followed  the  road  only  in  part ;  it  made  short  cuts 
over  hills,  through  woods,  and  across  valleys,  and 


9O  A    SUMMER   VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

was  full  of  variety,  annoyance,  sometimes  of  diffi- 
culty; but  we  found  all  less  vexatious  than  the 
descent  of  Berthoud  Pass,  and,  following  the  South 
Boulder  Creek,  came  at  last,  wet  and  weary,  into 
the  nearly  deserted  mining  visage  of  South  Boul- 
der. Here  we  found  welcome  around  the  fire  of 
the  post-office ;  a  deserted  cabin  was  thrown  open 
to  us  for  our  baggage  and  our  meals;  and  a  big 
barn's  loft  with  fresh  hay  furnished  a  magnificent 
bedroom.  We  dried,  we  ate,  having  fresh  meat, 
cream  and  vegetables  added  to  our  bill  of  fare,  and 
we  slept,  all  in  luxury.  Half  the  village  was  pre- 
occupied by  a  large  party  of  men  and  women,  some 
twenty  to  thirty,  from  the  villages  farther  down  the 
valley,  on  their  way  into  the  Park  by  the  road  we 
had  come  out.  They  had  ox  teams  for  their  bag- 
gage, saddle  animals  to  carry  themselves,  and  a  cow 
to  furnish  fresh  milk ;  and  thus  generously, equipped 
were  jollily  entering  upon  camp  life  among  the 
mountains  for  ten  days  or  a  fortnight. 

An  early  start  the  next  morning,  and  a  rapid  gal- 
lop of  ten  miles  over  good  roads,  across  the  hills,  by 
scattered  saw-mills,  farm-houses,  and  mining-camps, 
brought  us  into  the  valley  of  North  Clear  Creek,  and 
to  the  higgledy-piggledy  but  brisk  town  of  Cen- 
tral City  in  season  for  the  morning  stage  to  Denver. 
Our  old  friends  here  gave  us  hearty  welcome,  but 
stared  at  our  costumes  in  grim  dismay,  and  some 
took  us  for  " honest  miners"  come  to  town  from  the 
mountains  for  fresh  supplies.  Here,  too,  the  party 
separated  ;  the  Vice-President  going  on  to  Denver 
vfrith  some  of  the  others ;  but  the  Governor  (Bross) 


COLORADO:  ITS  PARKS  AND  MOUNTAINS.     91 

and  myself  and  our  Georgetown  friends,  first  eating 
a  French  dinner  by  way  of  contrast  to  camp  diet  and 
manners,  rode  on  over  another  range  of  hills  into 
the  South  Clear  Creek  valley.  And  here,  again,  a 
bath  at  the  Idaho  warm  springs,  and  a  couple  of 
days'  rest  and  recreation  at  Mill  City  and  George- 
town have  prepared  us  for  another  and  still  more 
select  expedition  into  the  highest  mountain  tops  of 
the  country. 


VII. 

OVER  GRAY'S  PEAK  TO  SOUTH  PARK. 

A  Private  Outfit  for  a  Grand  Mountain  Excursion — Gray's  Peaks 
and  What  They  Showed  Us — The  Finest  Mountain  View  in  the 
World — Saturday  Night  Camp  in  the  Snake  River  Valley — 
Sunday  Travel  with  Commodore  Decatur — A  Butter  Ranch— 
How  Life  Goes  in  Camp,  and  What  it  Costs — The  Blue  River 
Valley — Breckenridge,  and  over  the  Range  into  South  Park' 
through  Thunder  and  Lightning,  Hail  and  Rain. 

SOUTH  PARK,  Colorado,  August,  1868. 
WHILE  the  Vice-President,  Governor  Hunt,  and 
a  considerable  party  of  Denver  friends  were  to 
accompany  our  ladies  into  the  South  Park  by  the 
usual  wagon  road  from  that  point,  Governor  Bross, 
General  Lord  and  myself  made  a  short  cut  but 
rougher  journey  over  two  high  ranges  of  moun- 
tains, much  of  the  way  impassable  to  vehicles,  and  t 
met  them  here.  Our  chief  object  was  to  ascend 
Gray's  Peaks,  the  highest  summits  yet  accurately 
measured  in  the  Colorado  mountains,  and  from 
their  central  position  commanding  the  widest  -and 
most  majestic  views  to  be  obtained  in  the  country. 
Such  a  load  as  we  put  on  our  single  pack  mule :  a 
great  overtopping  cube  of  blankets  and  sacks  of 
meat  and  bread,  and  four  little  feet  sticking  out 


COLORADO  I     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.        93 

beneath,  were  all  that  could  be  seen  as  it  went 
shaking  along  on  a  mysterious  trot.  Sending  the 
outfit  and  our  outfitter,  Ashley  Franklin,  by  an 
easier  path  over  to  where  we  intended  to  camp  for 
the  night,  we  three  started  early  Saturday  morning 
from  Georgetown, — distance  fifteen  miles  to  Gray's 
Peaks,  and,  by  virtue  of  mines  among  the  moun- 
tains, a  good  wagon  road  two-thirds  the  way.  It 
was  an  object  to  get  to  the  summit  as  early  as 
possible,  before  afternoon  haze  or  cloud  should  dim 
the  view,  and  we  galloped  rapidly  through  aspen 
groves,  then  among  larger  pines,  by  the  side  of 
rapidly  descending  streams,  around  and  around,  up 
and  up,  and  finally  out  above  the  trees/where  grass 
and  flowers  had  all  life  to  themselves,  and  again 
above  these  and  only  thin  mosses  lived"  among  the 
stones,  and  yet  still  higher,  where  the  mountains 
became  great  walls  of  rock,  or  immense  mounds  of 
broken  stone,  as  if  they  had  been  run  through  a 
crusher  for  the  benefit  of  Mr.  Macadam.  Such 
was  the  character  of  Gray's  Peaks.  Great  patches 
of  snow  divided  place  with  the  rocks,  and  fed  the 
clear,  cold  rivulets  that. started  out, from  every  shel- 
tered nook  or  side  of  the  mountains  ;  but  they  only 
added  to  the  cold  dreariness  of  the  scene.  The 
only  life  was  grasshoppers, — here  they  were  still 
by  thousands,  by  millions,  sporting  in  the  air  and 
frisking  over  the  snow,  but  the  latter's  chill  seemed 
soon  to  overcome  their  life,  for  they  lay  dead  in 
countless  numbers  upon  its  white  surface.  In 
some  places  the  dead  grasshoppers  could  have 
been  shoveled  up  by  the  bushels,  and  down  at 


94  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

the  edges  of  the  snow  cold  grasshopper  soup  was 
to  be  had  ad  libitum.  There  was  a  feast  here  for 
the  bears,  but  we  could  see  none  enjoying  it. 

Gray's  Peaks, — great  mounds  or  monuments  of 
loose,  broken  stone,  —  shoot  up  sharply  from  a 
single  base,  in  the  midst  of  very  high  mountains 
all  about.  Their  sharpness  increases  the  appear- 
ance of  the  fact  of  their  superior  hight.  Below, 
the  two  seem  but  a  rifle  shot  apart;  above,  they 
are  manifestly  several  miles  away  from  each  other; 
but  their  common  paternity,  their  similarity  in  form, 
effect  and  views,  entitle  them  to  bear  the  common 
name.  It  was  probably  given  originally  to  the 
lower  peak  alone  by  Dr.  C.  C.  Parry  of  St.  Louis, 
who  has  been,  so  far,  the  most  thorough  scientific 
explorer  of  the  higher  mountain  regions  of  Colo- 
rado, and  in  honor  of  the  distinguished  Cambridge 
botanist,  Professor  Gray ;  but  though  there  are  per- 
sistent rivals  for  the  name  of  the  other  and  higher 
peak, — Dr.  Parry  himself,  we  believe,  has  suggested 
that  of  Professor  Torrey  for  it, — the  local  judgment 
insists  that  they  shall  go  together  with  the  name  of 
Gray.  There  are  now  trails  for  horses  to  the  top 
of  each, — that  to  the  higher  was  nearly  finished 
while  we  were  there ;  and  though  the  path  to  the 
•lower  is  the  more  easy  and  familiar,  our  ambition 
was  not  content  with  anything  less  than  the  high- 
est, and  spite  of  fatigue  and  cold  we  struck  out 
for  it.  Going  through  a  snow-drift  at  least  fifteen 
feet  high,  and  coming  out  above  all  snow  deposits, 
we  fastened  our  animals  with  stones  at  the  end  of 
the  path,  and  slowly  toiled  .the  remaining  quarter 


COLORADO  :    ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.       95 

of  a  mile  over  the  loose  rocks, — the  thin  air  oblig- 
ing us  to  stop  every  three  minutes  to  gain  our 
breath, — and  at  high  noon  sat  upon  the  highest 
peak  of  the  highest  known  mountain  of  the  great 
Rocky  Mountain  range.  Dr.  Parry  made  the  lower 
peak  fourteen  thousand  two  hundred  and  fifty-one 
feet  high;  the  highest  must  be  at  least  fourteen 
thousand  five  hundred. 

The  scene  before  us  was  ample  recompense  for 
double  the  toil.  It  was  the  great  sight  in  all  our 
Colorado  travel.  In  impressiveness, — in  overcom- 
ingness,  it  takes  rank  with  the  three  or  four  great 
natural  wonders  of  the  world, — with  Niagara  Falls 
from  the  Tower,  with  the  Yosemite  Valley  from 
Inspiration  Point.  No  Swiss  mountain  view  car- 
ries such  majestic  sweep  of  distance,  such  sublime 
combination  of  hight  and  breadth  and  depth ;  such 
uplifting  into  the  presence  of  God ;  such  dwarfing 
of  the  mortal  sense,  such  welcome  to  the  immortal 
thought.  It  was  not  beauty,  it  was  sublimity;  it 
was  not  power,  nor  order,  nor  color,  it  was  majesty; 
it  was  not  a  part,  it  was  the  whole ;  it  was  not  man 
but  God,  that  was  about,  before,  in  us.  Mountains 
and  mountains  everywhere, — even  the  great  Parks, 
even  the  unending  Plains  seemed  but  patches  among 
the  white  ranges  of  hills  stretching  above  and  be- 
yond one  another.  We  looked  into  Middle  Park 
below  us  on  the  north ;  over  a  single  line  of  moun- 
tains into  South  Park,  below  us  on  the  south, — but 
beyond  both  were  the  unending  peaks,  the  everlast- 
ing hills.  To  the  west,  the  broadest,  noblest  ranges 
of  mountains, — there  seemed  no  breaks  among  them 


96  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

except  such  as  served  to  mark  the  end  of  one  and 
the  beginning  of  another,  and  no  possible  limit  to 
their  extension.  The  snow  whitened  all,  covered 
many,  and  brought  out  their  lines  in  conspicuous 
majesty.  Over  one  of  the  largest  and  finest,  the 
snow-fields  lay  in  the  form  of  an  immense  cross, 
and  by  this  it  is  known  in  all  the  mountain  views 
of  the  territory.  It  is  as  if  God  h^.s  set  His  sign, 
His  seal,  His  promise  there, — a  beacon  upon  the 
very  center  and  hight  of  the  Continent  to  all  its 
people  and  all  its  generations.  Beyond  this  up- 
lifted what  seemed  to  be  the  only  mountain  in  all 
the  range  of  view  higher  than  the  peak  upon  which 
we  stood.  It  is  named  Sopris  Peak  upon  some  of 
the  maps,  but  has  never  been  explored,  and  is  more 
completely  covered  with  snow  than  any  other. 

Turning  to  the  east  we  find  relief  in  the  softer 
and  yet  majestic  and  unending  vision  of  the  Plains, 
— on,  on  they  stretch  in  everlasting  green  and  gray 
until  lost  in  the  dim  haze  that  is  just  beginning  to 
rise  along  the  horizon.  Directly  below  us,  great 
rough  seams  in  the  mountain  sides,  as  if  fire  and 
water  had  been  at  work  for  ages  to  waste  and 
overturn ;  dreary  areas  of  red  and  brown  and  gray 
rocks;  masses  of  timber;  bits  of  green  in  the  far- 
down  valley ;  flashes  of  darkness  where  little  lakes 
nestled  amid  the  rocks,  fed.  by  snow,  and  feeding 
the  streams, — Nature  everywhere  in  her  original 
forms,  and  her  abounding  waste  of  wealth,  as  if 
here  was  the  great  supply  store  and  workshop  of 
Creation,  the  fountain  of  Earth.  Looking  from 
side  to  side,  above,  below,  and  around, — impressed, 


COLORADO  I     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.       97 

oppressed  everywhere  with  the  presence  of  the  Be- 
ginning ;  it  was  almost  unconsciously  and  instinct- 
ively that  we  turned  again  and  at  last,  as  Mrs.  Brown- 
ing makes  Romney  Leigh,  "toward^the  east:" — 


-where  faint  and  fair, 


Along  the  tingling  desert  of  the  sky, 
Beyond  the  circle  of  the  conscious  hills, 
Were  laid  in  jasper-stone  as  clear  as  glass 
The  first  foundations  of  that  new,  near  Day, 
Which  should  be  builded  out  of  heaven,  to  God." 

It  was  difficult  to  leave  this  citadel  of  earth,  this 
outpost  of  heaven ;  but  our  time  and  our  strength 
were  both  exhausted.  The  long  gallop,  the  hard 
climb,  more,  the  excitement  of  the  vision  of  earth 
and  sky  at  this  elevation  of  over  fourteen  thousand 
.feet  above  the  ocean  level  had  used  up  our  nerve- 
power  ;  the  cool  breezes,  too,  chilled  us ;  and  after 
lunching,  we  regained  our  horses,  and  pushed  down 
the  other  side  of  the  mountain  from  that  we  came  up. 

There  was  only  a  dim  trail  to  follow,  running 
hither  and  thither  around  and  among  the  hills,  and 
then  across  and  along  the  valleys  of  the  streams  that 
came  in  from  every  mountain  crevice  and  snow- 
bank. We  crossed  Colfax  Park,  a  little  gem  of  grass 
and  flowers,  with  Colfax  Lake  at  its  head,  a  great 
rock  bowl  of  clear  water,  high  in  the  hill-side,  and 
pouring  its  surplus  over  a  sharp  natural  wall  of 
stone, — so  named  by  an  enthusiastic  and  apprecia- 
tive miner  in  the  lower  valley,  who  would  hardly  be 
reconciled  with  us  that  we  had  not  brought  the 
Vice-President  to  witness  how  happily  and  fitly  he 
had  been  honored  here.  We  passed  also  through 
5 


98  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

many  a  beaver  village ;  but  the  inhabitants  gave  us 
no  visible  welcome ;  they  modestly  let  their  works 
speak  for  them.  The  woods  grew  thick  and  mel- 
low ;  the  aspen  tender,  the  spruces  silver-hung  and 
silver-tongued ;  and  we  came  at  last, — a  long  ten 
miles  from  the  summit  of  Gray's  Peak, — to  our 
proposed  camping  spot,  the  junction  of  two  forks 
of  the  Snake  River  and  of  the  two  trails  from 
Georgetown. 

Here,  the  grass  was  abundant,  the  stream  ran  pure 
and  strong,  unpolluted  by  miner's  mud,  fuel  was 
plenty,  even  the  mosquitoes  sang  a  welcome,  but 
no  Ashley  Franklin,  no  pack-mule  was  to  be  seen, 
no  blankets,  no  food,  no  nothing,  that  belonged  to 
us,  but  weariness  and  hunger.  We  sounded  the 
war-whoop  of  the  country, — a  shrill,  far-reaching, 
cry ;  and  back  the  voices  came,  not  only  from  our 
lagging  outfit,  but  from  miners  here  and  there  among 
the  hills,  just  finishing  their  day's  work,  and  won- 
dering who  had  come  into  their  wilderness  now. 
The  mules  took  up  the  refrain,  and  bellowed  from 
"depths  that  overflow"  their  welcome  to  each  other. 
Soon  we  were  at  home,  the  coffee  brewing,  the  ham 
stewing,  and  a  hole  through  the  peach  can ;  Com- 
modore Decatur,  the  prince  of  prospectors,  the  char- 
acter of  all  Colorado  characters,  dropped  in  to  bid 
us  welcome  to  his  principality,  on  his  way  from  mine 
to  cabin ;  under  the  frosts  of  night  and  the  smoke 
of  the  camp  fire,  the  merry  mosquitoes  flew  away; 
our  tent  was  raised,  our  blankets  spread ;  and  the 
peace  of  Saturday  night  .and  a  day  richly  spent 
reigned  over  us  four  and  no  more. 


COLORADO  :     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.        99 

But  camp  life  is  not  all  comfort.  This  very 
blessed  Saturday  night  on  the  Snake  River,  the 
wind  took  turns  in  coming  out  of  the  three  or  four 
valleys  that  converged  upon  our  camping-ground, 
and  blew  the  virulent  smoke  in  upon  us.  Shift  the 
fire,  change  the  blanket,  still  the  smoke  followed 
us,  as  if  charmed,  and  was  discomfort  and  sleep- 
lessness to  all,  poison  to  at  least  one.  There  was 
a  yearning  for  something  delicate  for  the  Sunday 
morning  breakfast, — a  bit  of  cream  toast,  or  a  soft 
egg,  and  some  milk-ameliorated  coffee;  but  the 
knurly  little  "Jack,"  that  carried  our  abed  and 
board,"  had  no  provision  for  sensitive  stomachs, 
and  we  had  to  take  our  victual  and  drink  "straight," 
— plain  ham  and  bread  and  butter  and  black  cof- 
fee,— or  go  without.  But  £hat  best  and  cheapest  of 
doctors  and  nurses,  the  sun  came  to  our  relief;  and 
later  in  the  day  a  pitcher  of  butter-milk  completed 
and  capped  his  healing  triumphs.  Mr.  Richardson 
records  my  sarcastic  contempt  for  buttermilk  three 
years  ago,  but  I  .take  it  all  back  now, — no  cup  of  it 
shall  ever  pass  from  my  lips  again  other  than  empty. 
It  comes  to  a  faint  and  forlorn  stomach  like  woman's 
sympathy  to  a  bruised  heart. 

Governor  Bross  galloped  back  into  the  hills  to 
make  a  call  at  a  solitary  cabin  half  a  dozen  miles 
away;  Commodore  Decatur  dropped  in  with  the 
Lord's  blessing  on  his  lips,  and  picked  me  up  for  a 
ride  down  the  river, — whither  we  were  bound ; — 
General  Lord  followed  along  with  his  fishing-pole, 
lingering  over  the  streams ;  and  the  mule  and  his 
master  strolled  more  leisurely  after,  to  protect  the 


IOO  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

rear  and  gather  in  the  Governor.  There  was  a 
rough  wagon  road  most  of  the  way,  chiefly  through 
woods,  occasionally  across  an  open  park,  frequently 
over  or  in  the  stream,  but  the  hills  kept  close  guard, 
and  the  eye  was  not  allowed  to  wander  far  away  for 
beauty.  But  the  "  Commodore/'  who,  to  thirty  years 
of  schools  and  civilization,  has  added  twenty  of  bor- 
der life  in  Mexico,  in  Nebraska  and  in  Colorado,  liv- 
ing at  times  amorig  the  Indians,  and  for  many  a 
season  in  his  solitary  cabin  in  these  elevated  valleys, 
kept  me  entertained  with  his  original  experiences, 
his  keen  observations  on  men  and  manners,  and  his 
quaint  yet  rich  philosophies.  He  is  an  old  Greek 
philosopher, — with  an  American  variation ;  as  wise 
as  Socrates,  as  enthusiastic  as  a  child,  as  mysteri- 
ous in  life  and  purpose  as  William  H.  Seward  or 
an  Egyptian  sphynx,  as  religious  as  a  Methodist 
class-leader, — he  ranks  high  among  the  individual 
institutions  and  idiosyncracies  of  Colorado,  such  as 
Governor  Hunt,  Editor  Goldrick  and  Charley  Ut- 
ter, whom  not  to  know  is  to  miss  the  next  piquant 
things  to  its  Mountains  and  Parks. 

We  sauntered  thus  through  ten  miles  in  four 
hours,  gathering  up  at  last  the  stragglers  in  the 
rear,  and  came  out  then  into  a  grand  opening  in 
the  valley.  The  timber  disappeared ;  the  hills 
sharpened  into  a  dead  wall  on  one  side,  and  swept 
away  in  soft  rolling  outlines  on  the  other ;  a  wide 
stretch  of  intervale  lay  between,  while  pretty  groves 
of  trees  tempered  the  distant  knolls  and  broke  the 
abruptness  of  forests  beyond.  We  were  again, 
indeed,  in  Middle  Park,  though  a  high  range  of 


COLORADO  I     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.     IOI 

mountains  and  a  long,  hard  ride  separated  us  from 
that  part  of  it  which  we  visited  the  week  before. 

Away  under  a  bluff,  a  speck  in  the  distance,  was 
a  log-cabin, — "  the  Georgia  Ranch,"  towards  which 
we  now  rode  with  freshened  speed.  Here  in  a 
cabin  of  two  rooms,  with  a  log  milk-house  outside, 
the  only  dwellers  in  this  rich  pasture  park,  were  a 
man,  his  wife  and  daughter;  their  home  and  farm 
were  in  Southern  Colorado,  but  they  had  come  up 
here  in  the  spring  with  forty  or  fifty  cows,  and 
were  making  one  hundred  and  forty-five  pounds  of 
butter  a  week,  and  selling  it  to  the  miners  in  the 
cabins  and  camps  among  the  hills  ten  to  fifteen 
miles  around,  for  seventy-five  cents  a  pound  ;  when 
the  snows  begin  to  fall  in  October,  they  will  drive 
the  herd  back  to  their  southern  pastures, — the  in- 
crease of  the  cows  will  pay  all  expenses,  and  the 
one  hundred  dollars  a  week  or  more  cash  for  but- 
ter and  milk,  is  clear  profit.  The  dairy  cabin  was  a 
"  sight  to  behold,"  such  piles  of  fresh  golden  butter, 
such  shelves  of  full  pans  of  milk, — there  wasn't 
room  for  another  pound  or  pan;  and  yet  the  de- 
mand far  exceeds  the  supply, — it  was  a  favor  to 
be  allowed  to  purchase  the  treasures  of  "  Georgia 
Ranch."  It  was  our  "Commodore's"  Sunday  di-^ 
version  to  ride  down  these  dozen  miles,  fill  his 
weekly  butter-pail  and  his  milk-can,  and  gallop 
back  in  season,  for  a  Sunday  night  supper  with 
his  cabin  comrade  of  "  mush  and  milk." 

These  mining  hermits  in  the  mountains  manage 
to  live  well, — they  become  adepts  in  cooking ;  with 
flour  and  meal  and  fresh  meat,  potatoes  and  onions, 


IO2  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

dried  and  canned  fruits,  the  bill  of  fare  is  appetizing ; 
and  the  cost  of  the  "best  tables"  is  from  seventy-five 
cents  to  one  dollar  a  day.  Nor  are  they  always  thus 
exiles  from  society ;  their  season  in  the  hills,  hunt- 
ing new  lodes  or  developing  old  ones,  is  confined 
to  the  summer;  when  cold  and  snow  come,  they 
flee  to  the  villages  or  to  Denver, — to  live  as  lei- 
surely and  luxuriously  as  what  they  have  made  the 
past  season  or  hope  to  make  the  next  will  permit. 

We  "packed"  a  bottle  of  cream,  filled  our  water 
canteen  with  milk,  took  Decatur's  Methodistic  ben- 
ediction,— "May  the  Lord  take  a  liking  to  you," — 
with  a  hearty  "amen,"  and  rode  down  the  valley, 
by  numerous  soda  and  other  mineral  springs,  three 
or  four  miles  farther,  to  our  camp  for  the  night. 
This  was  at  a  still  more  picturesque  spot, — a  trinity 
of  rivers,  a  triangle  of  mountains.  The  Blue  and 
the  Snake  Rivers  and  Ten  Mile  Creek  all  meet  and 
mingle  here  within  a  few  rods";  each  a  strong,  hearty 
stream,  from  its  own  independent  circle  of  moun- 
tains;  and  while  the  waters  unresisting  swam  to- 
gether, the  hills  stood  apart  and  away,  frowning  in 
dark  forests  and  black  rock,  and  cold  with  great 
snow-fields,  overlooking  the  scene,  which  green 
jmeadows,  and  blue  sky,  and  warm  sun  mellowed 
and  brightened.  A  neck  of  land,  holding  abun- 
dant grass  and  fuel,  between  the  three  rivers  at  the 
point  of  junction,  offered  a  magnificent  camping- 
ground.  It  is  a  spot  to  settle  down  upon  and  keep 
house  at  for  a  week.  Ten  Mile  Creek  overflows 
with  trout ;  General  Lord  took  ten  pounds  out  of  a 
single  hole  in  a  less  number  of  minutes,— a  single  fish 


COLORADO  :     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.     IO3 

weighing  about  three  pounds ;  and  deer  and  game 
birds  must  be  readily  findable  in  the  neighborhood. 
The  Blue  isn't  blue, — its  waters  have  been  troubled 
by  the  miners,  and  it  gives  its  name  and  mud  color 
to  the  combined  stream,  which  flows  off  through  an 
open,  inviting  valley  to  join  the  Grand,  and  thence 
to  make  up  the  grand  Colorado  of  the  West 

We  had  a  lesson  in  precaution,  after  unloading, 
and  proceeding  to  make  camp  here,  by  finding  that 
nobody  had  any  matches  ;  we  could  not  shoot  flame 
but  of  our  metallic-cartridge  pistols ;  nor  had  we  the 
Indian  accomplishment  of  rubbing  fire  out  of  two 
sticks ;  so  the  best  mule  was  put  over  the  road  to 
the  "Ranch"  and  back  at  a  very  un-mule-like-gait, 
to  bring  us  the  means  of  kindling  our  camp  fire. 
But  we  had  a  sumptuous  supper,  of  cream  toast  and 
trout,  with  milk  for  our  coffee,  and  a  sweet  night  in 
camp,  though  lulled  to  sleep  by  the  roll  of  thunder 
and  the  patter  of  a  brisk  shower,  with  high  wind  and 
sharp  lightning ;  and  we  turned  reluctantly  up  the 
valley  of  the  Blue,  the  next  morning,  with  the  reso- 
lution to  come  to  stay  at  this  point  another  season. 

We  had  come  this  way  through  a  little  obstinacy 
of  our  own,  instead  of  taking  the  common  and  short 
cut  over  the  hills,  from  the  valley  of  the  upper  Snake 
to  Breckenridge, — sure  that  the  conjunction  of  the 
Blue,  the  Snake  and  Ten  Mile  must  offer  something 
worth  seeing  in  the  way  pf  valley  and  mountain 
scenery ;  and  so  we  were  quite  proud  of  our  gener- 
ous repayment,  and  desire  all  future  travelers  to 
make  a  note  of  our  route,  and  follow  it.  The  val- 
ley of  the  Blue,  both  above  and  below  where  we 


IO4  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

struck  it,  is  altogether  one  of  the  most  interesting 
scenic  sections  of  the  territory ;  it  should  be  taken 
in  going  into  or  out  from  the  Hot  Springs ;  there 
is  no  route. so  rich  in  interest  and  beauty  as  that 
through  it  from  the  Middle  to  the  South  Park,  or 
vice  versa,  or  from  Georgetown  over  Gray's  Peaks 
into  either  Park, — and  we  were  sorry  not  to  have 
time  for  wider  exploration  of  its  lines. 
4  Our  day's  ride  now  followed  up  the  river  to  its 
very  head  in  the  mountains.  The  first  eight  miles 
was  through  a  fine  open  grazing  country,  and  we 
found  a  magnificent  herd  of  fat  cattle,  strongly 
marked  with  Durham  blood,  enjoying  its  rich 
grasses.  They  had  been  sent  up  here  to  fatten 
for  the  summer  from  some  of  the  ranches  of  the 
lower  valleys,  and,  perhaps,  to  furnish  fresh  beef  to 
the  mining  camps,  which  are  quite  numerous  among 
the  side  valleys  of  the  neighborhood.  Nearly  all 
our  day's  ride  we  were  in  sight  of  the  ditches  that 
had  been  built  to  carry  water  to  the  rich  beds  of 
sand  that  were  in  course  of  being  washed  over  for 
gold  deposits  at  various  localities  in  the  valleys. 
One  of  these  ditches  is  twelve  miles  long ;  tapping 
the  Blue  away  up  in  the  mountains,  it  takes  a  vigor- 
>  ous  stream  along  and  around  the  mountain  sides, 
up  and  down,  from  gulch  to  gulch,  parting  with 
portions  at  different  points  on  the  route  to  little 
companies  of  miners  at  so  much  per  foot ;  and,  de- 
ployed into  sand-banks,  swept  through  long  boxes, 
tarried  in  screens  and  by  petty  dams,  it  does  its 
work  of  separating  the  tiny  particles  of  gold  from  the 
earth,  and  finds  its  way  back  to  the  parent  stream, 


COLORADO  I     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.     IO5 

miles  from  where  it  left  it,  but  bringing  the  pol- 
lutions of  the  world  and  of  labor  with  it.  Many 
thousands  of  dollars  are  invested  in  these  ditches ; 
sometimes  they  are  made  and  owned  by  individ- 
uals, who  also  work  the  mines  or  deposits  of  gold  to 
which  they  lead,  but  oftener  now  they  belong  to 
companies  that  have  no  other  interest  than  to  sell 
water  from  them  to  those  who  mine  alone.  Gener- 
ally they  have  passed  out  of  the  hands  of  their 
builders,  who  rarely  realized  anything  but  expecta- 
tions, vast  and  vain,  from  them. 

At  Breckenridge  we  got  above  the  washings, 
and  the  river  was  clear  again.  This  is  the  center 
of  these  upper  mining  interests,  but  a  village  of 
only  twenty  or  thirty  cabins,  located  ten  thousand 
feet  high,  and  scarcely  habitable  in  winter,  though 
many  of  the  miners  do  hibernate  here  through  the 
season  of  snow  and  cold  that  begins  in  early  Octo- 
ber and  ends  in  June.  There  is  a  good  hotel  here, 
of  logs  to  be  sure,  with  a  broad  buxom  matron, 
and  black-eyed  beauties  of  daughters,  to  whom, 
after  dinner,  we  consigned  Governor  Bross,  with 
warning  against  his  fascinations,  while  General 
Lord  and  myself,  with  our  guide,  went  on  over 
the  range  into  the  South  Park.  The  miners  were 
to  be  gathered  in  the  next  night  for  speeches  from 
the  Vice-President  and  the  Governor,  and  the  lat- 
ter awaited  the  occasion  and  the  former's  arrival. 

There  was  a  good  wagon  road  all  our  way,  lead- 
ing from  Breckenridge  to  the  summit  of  Brecken- 
ridge Pass,  through  open  woods,  flower-endowed 
meadows,  a  broken,  various  and  interesting  moun- 
5* 


IO6  A    SUMMER   VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

tain  country,  often  giving  majestic  views  of  the 
higher  and  snow-crowned  peaks,  with  glimpses  of 
valleys  and  parks  below  and  beyond.  The  Pass  is 
just  above  the  timber  line,  about  twelve  thousand 
feet  high,  and  as  we  mounted  it,  a  cold  storm  gath- 
ered upon  the  snow-fields  above  us,  wheeled  from 
peak  to  peak  in  densely  black  clouds,  and  soon 
broke  in  gusts  of  wind,  in  vivid  lightning,  in  start- 
lingly  close  and  loud  claps  of  thunder,  in  driving 
snow,  in  pelting  hail,  in  drizzling  rain.  We  were 
below  the  storm's  fountain,  but  near  enough  to  see 
all  its  grand  movements,  to  feel  its  awful  presence, 
to  be  shaken  with  fear,  to  gather  inspiration.  The 
rapidity  of  its  passage  from  side  to  side,  from  peak 
to  peak,  was  wonderful;  the  crashing  loudness  of 
its  thunderous  discharges  awful;  one  moment  we 
felt  like  "fleeing  before  the  Lord,"  the  next  charmed 
and  awed  into  rest  in  His  presence. 

But  it  was  dreary  enough,  when  the  thundering 
and  the  flashing  ceased,  and  the  clouds  stopped 
their  majestic  movement,  and  hung  in  deep  mists 
over  all  the  mountains  and  the  valleys,  and  the  rain 
poured  ceaselessly  down.  The  poetry,  was  gone, 
and  gathering  overcoats  and  rubber  .closely  about 
us,  we  bent  our  heads  to  the  undeviating  shower, 
and  pushed  gloomily  and  ghastily  on.  It  seemed  a 
long  ride  down  mountain  side  and  through  valley 
to  Hamilton, — woods  that  made  us  feel  even  more 
pitiful ;  open  valleys  that  made  the  rain  more  piti- 
less; streams  twisted  out  of  place  and  shape  by 
ruthless  miners ;  desolated  cabins,  doorless,  window- 
less,— even  the  storm  was  more  inviting ;  Tarryall, 


COLORADO  :     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.     IO/ 

where  thousands  dug  and  washed  sands  for  gold 
three  and  four  years  ago,  and  now  only  two  or 
three  cabins,  mud-patched  and  turf-warmed,  sent 
forth  -the  smoke  of  home;  a  solitary  dirt-washer 
trudging  along  from  his  day's  mountain  work,  with 
dinner-pail  and  pickax, — out  at  last,  where,  through 
the  opening  mists,  we  could  see  the  long,  level 
reaches  of  South  Park,  and  into  Hamilton, — fifty 
or  more  vacant  or  decaying  cabins  and  two  log 
hotels, — where  one  thousand  men  mined  in  '60  to 
'64,  and  gayety  and  vice  reigned,  and  now  a  dozen 
or  twenty  men  and  three  or  four  women  were  the 
entire  population ;  a  grimy,  dirty  looking  village  of 
the  past,  for  all  the  world  in  the  storm  like  an  old 
Swiss  mountain  village,  with  manure  heaps  in  front 
of  the  houses,  and  a  few  sorry  looking  horses  and 
mules  scattered  about  the  pastures. 

It  was  a  comfortless  promise  after  so  comfortless 
a  ride.  We  passed  on  by  the  village  to  a  plateau 
above  the  river,  and  tried  to  make  camp ;  but 
everything  was  wet, — the  water  especially  so  and 
very  muddy;  we  couldn't  start  a  fire;  our  guide 
was  obstinate  for  going  to  the  hotel,  and  after  long 
struggling  against  it,  we  capitulated  and  went.  We 
gained  shelter  and  warmth,  and  a  good  supper,  and 
chapters  of  country  experiences  around  the  fire  with 
the  tobacco,  and  a  small  bed  for  two ;  but  there  are 
more  real  comfort  and  better  air  and  greater  clean- 
liness and  real  independence  in  camp  than  in  these 
pent-up  mountain  inns.  It  was  hard  to  accept  such 
compromise  with  civilization  after  the  luxuries  we 
had  enjoyed  in  our  ground  and  tent  homes. 


VIII. 

THE    SOUTH    JJARK   AND   MOUNT   LINCOLN. 

Sunshine  and  Reunion  in  the  South  Park — The  Beauties  of  the 
Park — Camping  Experiences — The  Ascent  of  Mount  Lincoln, 
the  Mother  of  the  Mother  Mountains — A  Snow  Storm  on  the 
Summit — Montgomery  and  Fairplay — The  Everlasting  Plattes— 
Over  the  Range  again  into  the  Arkansas  Valley. 

UPPER  ARKANSAS  VALLEY,  August,  1868. 
WITH  the  morning  at  Hamilton  came  sunshine 
and  beautiful  views  of  the  South  Park  country,  that 
lay  spread  out  before  us  in  unending  stretches  of 
green  prairie ;  here  lifted  up  by  a  perfect  embank- 
ment to  a  new  level  and  going  on  again  in  another 
plain ;  there  rolling  off  into  hills  with  patches  of 
evergreen ;  now  bringing  down  from  the  mountains, 
still  through  pastures  green,  tributaries  to  the  main 
river ;  offering  on  every  hand  glimpses  of  beckon- 
ing repetitions  of  itself  through  and  over  hills; 
while  all  around  in  the  distant  horizon  huge  moun- 
tains stood  sentinel,  guarding  this  great  upper 
garden-spot  of  the  territory,  as  if  jealous  lest  its 
frontiers  be  invaded,  its  lands  despoiled.  No  so  fine 
a  combination  of  the  grand  beauty  of  the  plains, 
of  the  lovely  beauty  of  the  hills,  of  the  majestic 
beauty  of  the  mountains  ever  spread  itself  before 


COLORADO:   ITS  PARKS  AND  MOUNTAINS.    109 

my  eyes.  Water-courses  were  abundant,  groves 
and  forests  were  placed  with  sufficient  frequency 
to  diversify  the  scene  and  relieve  and  kindle  the 
eye,  while  mountains,  near  and  remote,  gave  their 
impressive  sanction  and  completeness  to  the  pic- 
ture. The  coloring  was  brighter  yet  softer  than  in 
Middle  Park ;  and  we  felt  that  Colorado  had  indeed 
reserved  her  choicest  landscape  treasures  for  us  to 
the  last. 

Before  noon,  six  miles  away,  we  caught  sight  of 
our  companions  from  Denver,  coming  over  the  hill, 
— some  on  horseback,  some  in  light  carriages,  and 
the  rest  in  wagons  with  the  baggage.  They  looked 
like  one  of  the  patriarchal  families  of  Old  Testa- 
ment times,  sons  and  daughters,  servants  and  asses, 
moving  from  one  country  to  another,  in  obedience 
to  high  commandment;  and  as  if  representatives 
of  another  tribe,  we  rode  out  to.  greet  and  welcome 
them  to  our  goodly  land.  We  propitiated  their 
stomachs  with  our  treasured  big  trout;  and  after 
lunch  upon  the  open  prairie,  the  grand  caravan 
moved  on,  in  somewhat  disorderly  array. 

We  made  a  dozen  miles,  along  the  northern  line 
of  the  Park,  over  a  rich,  rolling  country,  starred 
by  occasional  lakes,  darkened  by  frequent  forests, 
shadowed  by  the  everlasting  snow  fields  of  the 
mountains.  The  inevitable  afternoon  storm  came 
upon  us  midway,  and  we  rode  into  Fairplay,  the 
most  considerable  town  of  the  South  Park  country, 
variously  wet  and  considerably  disgusted.  The  la- 
dies stopped  by  the  hospitable  fires  of  the  village, 
while  the  men  went  on,  and  made  camp  on  a  hill 


IIO  A    SUMMER   VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

overlooking  the  valley,  shaded  by  a  few  old  and 
stunted  pines,  and  circled  by  a  miner's  ditch  full  of 
furiously  running  water.  Here  half  a  dozen  fires 
were  kindled,  as  many  tents  stretched,  and,  the 
storm  passing  away,  everybody  came  into  camp,  and 
sleep  followed  supper  to  the  satisfaction  of  all. 

We  moved  but  a  dozen  miles  the  next  day,  up 
into  the  mountains  more  closely,  and  near  Mont- 
gomery, from  whence  some  of  us  were  to  ascend 
Mount  Lincoln  the  day  after.  These  winding  val- 
leys, leading  out  from  the  Park  proper  to  the  moun- 
tains, are  very  beautiful,  and  the  road  between  Fair- 
play  and  Montgomery,  which  lies  close  under  the 
highest  mountains,  offers  a  succession  of  brilliantly 
picturesque  mountain  and  valley  views.  The  val- 
leys are  broad,  and  fertile  with  green  grass,  and 
bright  with  flowers,  and  broken  with  forest  patches, 
while  the  mountains  rise  all  about  in  every  attitude, 
and  reach  up  on  every  hand  to  snow-fields,  flashing 
in  the  morning  and  reddening  in  the  evening  sun. 

Our  camp  was  a  gay  one  that  night,-^it  lay  scat- 
tered along  a  green  hill-side," a  few  rods  from  a  river, 
and  directly  under  a  forest ;  fuel  was  abundant,  and 
the  fires  burned  bright  and  high  in  all  directions ; 
we  were  not  worn  with  the  day's  travel ;  anticipa- 
tion of  the  mountain  excursion  the  next  morning, 
was  keen  and  exhilarating;  and  song  and  speech 
and  dance  around  the  central  camp  fire  exhausted 
the  hours  till  bed-time. 

It  was  a  happy  thought  to  call  the  parent  moun- 
tain of  this  region,  of  the  whole  Rocky  Mountain 
range  proper,  for  the  President  who  guided  the 


COLORADO  I     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.     1 1 1 

Nation  so  proudly  through  civil  war  and  slavery  to 
peace  and  freedom.  Peer  among  presidents  and 
mother  among  mountains  is  LINCOLN.  The  higfrer 
Gray's  Peak  is  as  high,  possibly  a  hundred  or  two 
feet  higher;  but  Mount  Lincoln  is  broader,  more  , 
majestic,  more  mountainous.  Out  from  its  wide- 
spreading  folds  stretch  three  or  four  lines  of  snow- 
covered  mountains ;  within  its  recesses  spring  the 
waters  of  three  great  rivers,  the  Platte,  the  Arkan- 
sas and  the  Colorado,  that  fertilize  the  plains  of 
half  the  Continent,  and  bury  themselves,  at  last, 
two  in  the  Atlantic  and  the  third  in  the  Pacific 
Ocean.  This  is  the  initial  point  in  our  geography, 
and  a  fountain-head  of  national  wealth  and  strength. 
This  geographical  parentage,  the  representative  as- 
sociation of  its  name  and  office,  and  the  enthusiasm 
kindled  by  our  accounts  of  the  view  from  Gray's 
Peak,  spread  a  zest  among  our  party  for  climbing 
Mount  Lincoln ;  and  though  the  morning  was 
strewn  with  showers,  and  huge  black  clouds  hung 
over  the  mountain  tops  in  alternation  with  great 
rifts  of  sunshine,  these  revealing  fresh-fallen  fields 
of  snow,  we  determined  to  take  our  chances,  and 
galloped  .off,  a  dozen  strong,  women  and  men,  up 
the  valley  to  Montgomery. 

The  rain  poured  relentlessly  through  these  five 
miles ;  but  then  the  sunshine  came  out,  and  joined 
by  half  a  dozen  more  at  that  point,  we  turned  di- 
rectly up  the  mountain  side.  For  two  or  three 
miles  there  is  a  rough  wagon  road;  beyond  that 
not  even  a  trail'that  is  fixed.  Catching  sight  of 
the  distant  goal,  we  scattered  irregularly  over  the 


112  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

intervening  slopes  and  ravines ;  first  through  rich- 
est grasses  and  most  abundant  and  high-colored 
fl'owers ;  then  across  huge  snow-fields,  so  soft  un- 
der the  summer  sun,  that  our  animals  could  not 
bear  us  without  floundering  in  dangerous  depths, 
and  we  had  to  dismount  and  walk  and  lead;  next 
over  wide  but  steep  fields  of  thin  mosses,  delicate 
in  leaf  and  blossom  to  the  last  degree,  pink  and 
white  and  blue, — the  very  final  condensed  expres- 
sion of  nature ;  all  beauty,  all  tenderness,  all  sweet- 
ness in  essence;  and  at  last,  beyond  all  growth, 
beyond  all  snow,  out  upon  miles  of  broken  stones, 
immeasurably  deep,  as  steep  as  they  could  lie. 

To  ascend  over  these  was  tough  work;  the  wind 
blew  biting  cold;  clouds  charged  with  hail  and 
snow  every  few  minutes  swept  over,  through  us; 
the  air  was  so  rare  that  the  animals  labored  for 
breath  at  every  step;  the  sides  so  steep  and  the 
stones  so  loose  as  to  render  the  footing  fickle, 
even  dangerous  ;  we  could  only  make  upward  prog- 
ress in  slow  degree  by  long,  zigzag  courses  back 
and  forth ;  and  every  few  minutes  the  panting, 
trembling  horses  and  mules  would  come  to  a  stub- 
born stop  in  very  fear  of  their  footing.  Then  we 
had  to  dismount  and  reassure  them  by  leading  the 
way,  or  find  firmer  paths.  But  at  last  we  got  as 
far  as  horses  could  go ;  and  a  climb  of  five  hundred 
feet  remained  for  ourselves  of  even  steeper  and  still 
loose-lying  rocks  to  the  summit  Then  we  found 
our  hearts  and  lungs,  if  never  before ;  work  as  fast 
as  they  could,  shaking  our  very  frames  in  the  haste 
to  keep  up  with  their  duty,  we  still  had  to  stop  and 


COLORADO:   ITS  PARKS  AND  MOUNTAINS.    113 

rest  every  thirty  or  forty  feet,  and  let  them  get 
even  with  the  air. 

Finally  on  the  very  crest  of  the  mammoth  moun- 
tain, the  one  spot  higher  than  all  others,  than  all 
around  so  far  as  could  be  seen.  Our  hopes  our 
fears  belied,  our  fears  our  hopes  in  turn ;  the  sweep 
of  the  horizon  was  broken  by  thick  clouds  ;  and  we 
could  not  compare  the  view  with  its  rival,  from 
Gray's  Peak ;  but  the  contending  elements  lent  a 
new  majesty,  almost  a  terror  to  the  scene.  Sun- 
shine and  storm  were  continually  at  war;  clouds 
and  clearness  constantly  changing  places ;  now  it 
was  all  light  to  the  east,  and  Gray's  Peak  and  all 
the  intervening  mountains  to  the  Plains,  the  Plains 
themselves,  Denver  itself  glowed  in  gdden  sun- 
shine, while  in  the  west  everything  was  shrouded 
in  blackness  and  despair;  then  the  clouds  came 
upon  and  over  us,  pelting  us  with  snow,  and  pass- 
ing by  opened  great  lines  of  brightness  to  the  west, 
and  we  could  see  on  to  indefinable  distances  of 
snow-covered  mountains, — Sopris  Peak,  the  moun- 
tain with  the  snow  cross,  a  continent  of  rocks  and 
snow,  dreary  yet  beautiful  in  color,  majestic  yet  fasci- 
nating in  form.  So  we  caught  long  narrow  glimpses 
of  the  South  Park,  and  the  Arkansas  valley,  south 
of  us ;  and  Pike's  Peak  in  one  direction  and  Long's 
Peak  in  another  were  not  denied  us, — sentinels  of 
nature  in  the  far  off  corners  of  the  territory,  rising 
above  clouds,  over  intervening  storms ;  while  deep 
chasms,  yawning  recesses  opened  in  ghastliness 
through  the  clouds  below  us  on  every  side. 

The  whole  vision,  fickle,  forbidding  in  many  fea- 


114  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

tures,  always  surprising,  never  satisfying,  piqueing 
us  by  what  was  withheld,  astonishing  us  by  what 
was  given,  though  disappointing  our  hopes,  yet  was 
vastly  finer  than  our  fears.  It  was  the  wildest  of 
mountain  views  and  mountain  experiences,  such  as 
may  be  welcomed  as  a  variety,  though  not  chosen 
as  the.  reward  for  a  single  excursion.  Similar  ex- 
periences in  the  high  Alps  are  tamer  every  way; 
there  is  less  variety  in  the  landscape ;  less  color  in 
the  mountains  and  the.  atmosphere ;  above  all,  less 
sweep  of  distance,  less  piling  of  mountain  on  moun- 
tain, through  the  long  openings  in  the  clouds. 

We  waited  as  long  as  the  freezing  air  and  the 
driving  snow  would  let  us  for  wider  views  of  earth 
and  sky;  but  clouds  and  storm  growing  denser, 
and  having  finished  our  lunch -of  sandwiches  and 
sardines,  pickles  and  peaches,  and,  coffee  being  out 
of  the  question,  a  necessary  flask  of  whisky,  we  re- 
traced the  tedious,  hard-going  way  to  the  valley. 
Far  up,  where  only  rocks  reigned,  beautiful  white 
and  blue  birds,  like  large  doves,  but  called  moun- 
tain partridges,  trotted  or  flew  tamely  about  us ; 
and  a  revolver  sadly  repaid  the  faith  of  some  of 
them.  Back  among  the  flowers,  we  gathered  large 
bouquets  of  bright  painter's  brush,  harebells,  fringed 
gentians,  lupins  and  quaint  grasses,  and  rode  into 
Montgomery  aglow  with  color  and  excitement,  and 
wet  alike  from  perspiration,  snow  and  rain. 

The  whole  excursion  up  from  and  back  to  Mont- 
gomery occupied  five  hours.  The  distance  cannot 
be  more  than  six  miles  to  the  top ;  and  the  hight 
of  the  mountain,  though  never  exactly  measured, 


COLORADO:   ITS  PARKS  AND  MOUNTAINS.    115 

must  exceed  fourteen  thousand  feet  above  the  sea 
level.  The  wildest  estimates  are  made  by  the  local 
population  of  these  higher  peaks  of  Colorado ;  but 
unless  it  be  Sopris  Peak  in  the  far  West,  it  is  not 
probable  that  any  one  of  them  rises  as  high  as 
Mount  Whitney  in  the  Sierra  Nevada  of  California, 
which  is  known  to  be  above  fifteen  thousand  feet. 
Gray,  Lincoln,  Pike's  and  Long's  Peaks  are  the 
four  great  mountains  of  explored  Colorado;  they 
are  all  above  fourteen  thousand  feet  high,  but  prob- 
ably no  one  goes  higher  than  fourteen  thousand 
five  hundred. 

Montgomery,  which  lies  close  at  the  foot  of 
Mount  Lincoln,  on  the  inside,  and  is  about  ten 
thousand  feet  high,  is  another  of  the  deserted 
mining  towns  of  Colorado.  There  are  a  hundred  or 
two  houses  standing,  but  only  one  now  occupied. 
Several  years  ago,  the  mines  in  the  hill-sides  were 
rich  and  remunerative,  and  a  population  of  two 
or  three  thousand  were  gathered  there.  There 
was  an  opera  house,  and  saloons  and  stores  by  the 
dozens ;  but  the  more  readily  worked  ore  gave  out, 
there  were  no  means  to  reduce  profitably  what  fol- 
lowed in  the  mines,  and  fresher  discoveries  else- 
where invited  the  people  "to  move  on."  "Buck- 
skin Joe"  is  another  similar  town,  five  miles  off, 
under  another  spur  of  Mount  Lincoln.  There  are 
good  and  rich  mines  at  both  places,  and  new  ones 
are  even  still  being  discovered ;  but  like  most  of 
the  ores  of  Colorado,  they  await  cheaper  labor 
and  simpler  and  more  searching  processes  of  treat- 
ment for  their  profitable  use. 


1 16  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

The  solitary  family  in  Montgomery,  cultivated, 
tasteful  people,  such  as  we  find  everywhere  among 
these  mountain  recesses,  gave  us  a  rich  hospitality, 
— which  means  a  "square  meal"  and  a  hearty  wel- 
come,— and,  sunshine  being  now  permanently  the 
victor,  we  had  a  pleasant  'afternoon  ride  down  the 
valley,  by  our  now  deserted  camp  of  the  night  be- 
fore, along  the  clear-running  juices  of  old  Lincoln, 
winding  about  among  her  child-hills,  their  snow-tops 
reddening  under  the  descending  sun,  and  giving 
depth  and  richness  to  the  verdure  of  valley  and 
forest.  Reaching  Fairplay  at  dusk,  we  found  the 
rest  of  the  party, — those  who  did  not  go  up  Mount 
Lincoln, — had  gone  ten  miles  farther  on,  with  tents, 
bag  and  baggage,  and  left  us  to  the  miserable  re- 
source of  a  night's  life  in  town.  But  the  long- 
stretching  log  hotel  and  the  country  habit  of  close- 
packing, — no  house  is  ever  full  here,  so  long  as  any 
bed  has  less  than  four  in  it,  or  there  is -a  vacant 
corner  to  lay  a  blanket, —  made  accommodations 
for  us  all,  even  though  the  village  was  unusually 
crowded  that  night  by  reason  of  Mr.  Colfax  and 
Governor  Bross  stopping  over  to  make  speeches. 
But  we  missed  the  better  victual,  the  wider  space, 
the  purer  air  of  camp;  and  duly  anathematized 
Governor  Hunt  and  his  various  "little  Indians," 
for  running  away  from  us. 

The  Platte  River  divides,  subdivides,  and  redi- 
vides  almost  indefinitely ;  and  when  we  get  up  here 
among  its  head  waters,  the  brain  fairly  grows  con- 
fused with  the  number  of  its  forks  or  branches. 
The  same  name  extends  to  the  remotest  subdivi- 


COLORADO:   ITS  PARKS  AND  MOUNTAINS.    117 

sion ;  and  we  have  the "  north  branch  of  the  south 
fork  of  the  South  Platte ;  and  the  middle  fork  of 
the  north  branch  of  the  south  fork  of  the  South 
Platte,  and  so  on  ad  infinitum.  I  wish  the  Colo- 
radians  would  abolish  the  sinuosities  and  multipli- 
cations, and  put  the  Plattes  into  numerals,  as  Platte 
i,  2,  3,  4,  5,  and  so  on.  I  verily  believe  they  would 
run  up  to  the  hundreds ;  but  that  would  be  better 
than  the  "  Peter  Piper  picked  a  peck  of  pickled  pep- 
pers" nomenclature.  Perhaps,  though,  they  mean 
to  make  their  geography  take  the  place  of  classics 
as  a  discipline  for  the  youthful  mind ;  if  so,  they 
have  hit  upon  a  very  ingenious  substitute,  not  to 
say  improvement.  As  between  learning  the  Plattes 
and  conjugating  a  Greek  verb,  where's  the  choice 
for  hardness?  All  the  time  we  were  in  the  South 
Park,  we  were  among  Plattes,  and  getting  to  the 
heads  of  Plattes,  and  each  was  big  enough  and 
independent  enough  to  go  alone,  and  to  deserve  a 
name  to  itself.  Fairplay  lies  on  the  Platte,  and  so 
did  every  one  of  our  camping  grounds  for  a  week. 
I  believe  I  have  exhausted  my  adjectives  and 
every  known  variety  of  picture  frame  in  trying  to 
set  the  South  Park  landscapes  in  the  mind's  eye 
of  the  reader.  But  their  soft  coloring,  their  rich 
variety  of  outline,  their  long  sweep  of  distance, 
their  greyish-green  grasses,  their  deep-green  ever- 
greens, their  silvery-green  aspens,  their  summer  pic- 
tures in  their  winter  frames, — here  August,  there 
rising  around  always  January, — only  seeing  can  be 
feeling  and  believing.  Especially  beautiful  and  ex- 
hilarating to  sense  and  spirit  are  the  approaches  to 


Il8  A   SUMMER   VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

the  mountains  out  from  the  central  basin  or  prairie. 
First,  over  slight  and  soft-rolling  hills,  through  wide 
valleys,  around  spurs  of  the  mountains  into  new 
valleys,  each  succeeding  one  narrower,  finally  into 
canyons  or  chasms,  and  then  up  the  abrupt  hill- 
side ;  flowers  that  had  deserted  the  plains  now 
'beginning,  then  trees  ceasing,  and  snow-banks  ap- 
pearing; and  finally  catching  the  cold  western 
wind  as  it  sweeps  over  the  crest  of  pass  or  hill. 
Occasionally,  in  the  open  prairie  country,  a  ranch 
where  some  successor  of  David  tends  his  flocks; 
in  the  narrow  valleys,  or  on  the  hill-sides,  the  de- 
serted cabins  of  gold-hunters,  who  had  passed  on ; 
every  six  or  eight  miles  a  new  Platte  to  cross ;  and 
at  each  ascended  mountain-top  the  beginning  of  a 
new  Platte,  running  through  tender  grass  out  of  a 
little  round  lake,  or  oozing  from  under  a  huge 
snow-bank. 

These  were  our  observations  the  next  day,  as 
we  galloped  savagely  on  after  the  head-quarters  of 
the  camp.  We  surprised  it  at  lunch  by  our  ra- 
pidity, and  then  all  pushed  on  "over  the  range'* 
that  divides  South  Park  from  the  Arkansas  val- 
ley. The  South  Park  country  is  free  from  rocks^ 
or  stones;  the  waste  of  the  mountains  is  broken 
and  pulverized  before,  it  reaches  the  valleys ;  and 
even  when  we  mount  above  grass  and  trees  and 
earth,  the  " rock-ribbed  hills"  are  simply  great  de- 
posits of  small  stones,  or,  more  correctly,  broken 
rocks.  This  is  one  great  element  in  the  softness 
of  its  scenery.  But  as  we  go  over  the  mountains 
into  the  Arkansas  valley,  there  is  a  change;  the 


COLORADO:   ITS  PARKS  AND  MOUNTAINS.    119 

roads  become  rough  with  stones ;  boulders  lie  along 
the  path  or  in  the  hill-sides,  and  the  water-courses 
have  thrust  themselves  through  high  walls  of  solid 
rock.  There  is  more  ruggedness  and  coarseness  in 
nature ;  and  while  the  want  of  it  was  not  felt,  now 
we  welcome  the  new  materials  in  the  landscape. 
Our  heavy  baggage  teams  were  slow  in  working  up 
the  huge  hills  and  down,  and  we  went  into  camp  at 
the  first  passable  widening  of  the  side  valley. 


IX. 

AN    INDIAN    SCARE— THE    TWIN    LAKES. 

Alarming  Indian  Reports — The  Savages  on  our  Track — Scenes  and 
Thoughts  in  Camp — A  Nervous  Night  and  its  Sufferings — The 
Indian  Question  Generally — The  Old  False,  the  New  True 
Policy— The  Relief  of  the  Next  Morning— The  Arkansas  Val- 
ley and  its  Greetings — The  Twin  Lakes  and  their  Beauties — 
Sunday  and  Short-Cake — Taylor  and  Trout. 

TWIN  LAKES,  Upper  Arkansas  Valley,  September,  1868. 

THE  circle  of  our  Colorado  and  border  travel  ex- 
perience has  been  made  complete  by  an  Indian 
scare.  We  have  shared  the  horrible  excitement  of 
the  settlers,  when  the  hostile  Indians  put  on  their 
war-paint,  raise  their  war-whoop,  and  dash  wildly 
upon  the  life  and  property  of  the  whites.  Just  as 
we  were  going  into  camp,— weary  with  mountain 
travel,  and  our  heaviest  teams  far  behind, — this  side 
the  range,  there  dashed  in,  on  a  gaunt  white  horse, 
a  grim  messenger  from  Denver,  with  official  advices 
to  Governor  Hunt  that  the  Indians  of  the  Plains, 
— the  Cheyennes,  Arapahoes  and  Sioux, — were  on 
the  "war-path;'*  that  from  seeming  friends  they 
had  suddenly  turned  again  to  open  foes ;  and  were 
raiding  furiously  all  among  the  settlements,  east, 
north  and  south  of  Denver,  stealing  horses  and 


COLORADO:   ITS  PARKS  AND  MOUNTAINS.    121 

shooting  the  people.  We  were  besought  to  keep 
among  the  mountains, — the  homes  of  the  friendly 
Utes, — as  the  only  place  of  safety,  for  our  company 
of  territorial  and  federal  officials  would  be  a  tempt- 
ing prize  for  the  red  men ;  but  the  messenger,  who 
proved  to  be  a  villainous  sensationist, — though  of 
course  we  did  not  know  this  then, — added  to  his 
written  reports  the  alarming  story  that  he  had  met 
the  hostile  Indians  in  the  mountains,  only  that  very 
day,  that  they  had  pursued  and  shot  at  him, — the 
rascal  even  showing  as  proof  the  bullet-holes  in  his 
saddle, — that  he  barely  escaped  by  rapid  riding,  and 
that  they  were  probably  but  a  few  miles  back,  and 
on  our  path. 

Here  was  serious  business,  indeed,  for  such  a 
party ;  burdened  with  overloaded  wagons,  tired 
horses  and  defenceless  women  and  children;  and 
all  on  pleasure  and  not  on  war  intent.  Messengers 
were  sent  back  to  hasten  to  camp  all  stragglers, 
and  to  warn  the  Indian  agent,  with  his  load  of 
goods  and  rifles  in  the  Park,  to  be  on  his  guard, 
and  to  come  forward.  The  secret  could  be  kept 
from  no  one  ;  the  confusion  and  the  excitement 
quickly  grew  intense ;  and  that  peculiar  reckless- 
ness or  indifference  as  to  ordinary  matters,  that 
follows  the  presence  of  a  deep  emotion,  was  singu- 
larly manifest.  Tents  were  shabbily  put  up;  camp 
was  disorderly  made ;  supper  was  eaten  in  that 
mechanical,  forced  way,  without  regard  to  quantity, 
quality  or  clean  plates,  that  happens  when  death  is 
in  the  house ;  and  elaborate  toilets  were  dispensed 
with.  But  we  huddled  close  in  together;  the  ani- 


122  A    SUMMER   VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

mals  were  picketed  near  at  hand  ;  our  fire-arms 
were  put  in  good  order;  and  up  and  down  the 
road,  trusty  sentinels  were  posted.  On  each  side 
were  high  abrupt  hills;  it  was  a  "lovely  spot"  for 
an  ambuscade;  but  the  nearest  anybody  came  to 
being  killed  was  when  one  of  our  sentinels,  during 
the  midnight  blackness  of  storm,  suddenly  entered 
upon  the  ground  of  the  other.  Indian-shod  in  san- 
dals, and  moving  with  that  noiseless,  stealthy  tread 
that  hunters  unconsciously  adopt,  the  one  was  al- 
most upon  the  other  before  the  latter  discovered  a 
foreign  presence.  There  was  a  sudden  click  of  the 
rifle's  cock,  a  peremptory  demand  for  "personal 
explanation"  without  delay,  and  then, — a  friendly 
instead  of  a  deadly  greeting. 

But  it  was  a  night  to  remember,  with  a  shiver, 
— lying  down  in  that  far-off  wilderness  with  the 
reasonable  belief  that  before  morning  there  was 
an  even  chance  of  an  attack  of  hostile  Indians 
upon  our  camp,  more  than  half  of  whose  numbers 
were  women  and  children, — after  an  evening  spent 
in  discussing  the  tender  ways  Indians  had  with 
their  captives,  illustrated  from  the  personal  knowl- 
edge of  many  present;  aroused  after  the  first 
hour's  feverish  rest  by  a  new  messenger  from  an- 
other quarter,  galloping  into  camp,  and  shouting, 
as  if  we  were  likely  to  forget,  that  "the  Indians 
were  loose,  and  hell  was  to  pay;"  followed  by  the 
coming  of  furious  storm  of  rain  and  hail  and  thun- 
der and  lightning,  sucking  under  our  tents,  beating 
through  them,  to  wet  pillows  and  blankets, — at  any 
other  time  a  dire  grievance,  now  hardly  an  added 


COLORADO:   ITS  PARKS  AND  MOUNTAINS.    123 

trial ;  every  ear  stretched  for  unaccustomed  sound, 
every  heart  beating  anxiously,  but  every  lip  silent ; 
all  eagerly  awaiting  the  slow-coming  morning  to 
bring  renewal  of  life  and  the  opportunity  to  go  far- 
ther on  and  to  safer  retreats.  To  confess  the  un- 
prosaic  individual  fact, — while  I  report  the  general 
truth, — this  deponent  had  the  soundest,  sweetest 
night's  sleep  he  had  had  in  the  mountains.  Some 
natures  will  be  perverse,  and  if  one  must  be  ner- 
vous, it  is  a  great  help  to  be  conscious  of  it. 

The  experience  brought  serious  thought  to  us  all 
of  the  whole  Indian  question,  that  puzzle  to  Con- 
gress and  eastern  public  opinion  generally.  And 
the  failure,  which  this  unexpected  outbreak  brings 
to  the  last  and  most  promising  experiment  with  the 
so-called  but  miscalled  "  peace  policy,"  will  proba- 
bly lead  to  a  more  intelligent  study  and  understand- 
ing of  the  whole  subject  by  the  country,  and  in  the 
end  to  a  resolute  reformation  of  our  past  treatment 
of  it.  The  truth  here,  as  in  many  another  dispute, 
lies  between  the  two  extremes  of  opinion  and  policy. 
The  wild  clamor  of  the  border  population  for  the  A 
indiscriminate  extermination  of  the  savages,  as  of 
wolves  or  other  wild  beasts  and  vermin,  is  as  un- 
intelligent and  barbarous,  as  the  long  dominant 
thought  of  the  East  against  the  use  of  force,  and 
its  incident  policy  of  treating  the  Indians  as  of  equal 
responsibility  and  intelligence  with  the  whites,  are 
unphilosophical  and  impracticable.  The  conflict 
between  these  two  theories,  with  the  varying  su- 
premacy of  each,  has  brought  us  nothing  but  dis- 
aster and  disgrace;  we  have  alternately  treated 


124  A    SUMMER   VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

these  vagrant  children  of  the  wilderness  as  if  we 
were  worse  barbarians  than  themselves  or  down- 
right fools.  It  is  time  we  respected  ourselves  and 
commanded  their  respect.  Now  we  do  neither. 

In  the  first  place,  the  care  of  the  Indians  should 
be  put  into  a  single  department  at  Washington.  «- 
Its  division  between  the  war  and  interior  secreta- 
ries is  the  cause  of  half  our  woes.  The  war  office, 
as  representing  force,  which  is  the  first  element 
in  any  successful  dealing  with  ignorance  and  de- 
pendence, should  monopolize  their  care.  Then  we 
should  stop  making  treaties  with  tribes,  cease  put- 
ting them  on  a  par  with  ourselves.  We  know  they 
are  not  our  equals ;  we  know  that  our  right  to  the 
soil,  as  a  race  capable  of  its  superior  improvement, 
is  above  theirs ;  and  let  us  act  openly  and  directly 
our  faith.  The  earth  is  the  Lord's ;  it  is  given  by 
Him  to  the  Saints  for  its  improvement  and  develop- 
ment; and  we  are  the  Saints.  This  old  Puritan 
premise  and  conclusion  are  the  faith  and  practice 
of  our  people ;  let  us  hesitate  no  longer  to  avow  it 
and  act  it  to  the  Indian.  Let  us  say  to  him,  you 
are  our  ward,  our  child,  the  victim  of  our  destiny, 
ours  to  displace,  ours  also  to  protect.  We  want 
your  hunting-grounds  to  dig  gold  from,  to  raise 
grain  on,  and  you  must  "move  on."  Here  is  a 
home  for  you,  more  limited  than  you  have  had; 
hither  you  must  go,  here  you  must  stay ;  in  place 
of  your  game,  we  will  give  you  horses,  cattle  and 
sheep  and  grain  ;  do  what  you  can  to  multiply  them 
and  support  yourselves  ;  for  the  rest,  "it  is  our  busi- 
ness to  keep  you  from  starving.  You  must  not 


COLORADO:    ITS  PARKS  AND  MOUNTAINS.    125 

leave  this  home  we  have  Assigned  you ;  the  white 
man  must  not  come  hither ;  we  will  keep  you  in 
and  him  out ;  when  the  march  of  our  empire  de- 
mands this  reservation  of  yours,  we  will  assign  you 
another;  but  so  long  as  we  choose,  this  is  your 
home,  your  prison,  your  play-ground. 

Say  and  act  all  this  as  if  we  meant  it,  and  mean 
it.  If  the  tribes  would  go  and  submit  peaceably, 
well  and  good ;  if  they  would  not,  use  the  force 
necessary  to  make  them.  Treat  them  just  as  a 
father.would  treat  an  ignorant,  undeveloped  child. 
If  necessary  to  punish,  punish;  subject  any  way; 
and  then  use  the  kindness  and  consideration  that 
are  consistent  with  the  circumstances.  Use  the 
best  of  these  white  men  of  the  border,  these  Indian 
agents,  many  of  whom  are  most  capable  and  intelli- 
gent and  useful  men,  to  carry  out  and  maintain  this 
policy,  so  far  as  is  possible ;  use  the  army  so  far  as 
is  necessary  to  enforce  it,  but  withhold  the  soldiers 
whenever  it  is  not, — for  their  presence  on  an  Indian 
reservation  is  demoralizing  to  both  parties, — but  let 
all  authority  proceed  from  a  single  head,  and  that 
head  represent  a  single  force. 

Above  all,  stop  the  treaty-making  humbug.  It  is 
the  direct  parent  of  all  our  Indian  woes  and  theirs 
too.  Neither  party  keeps  the  bargain.  The  Indian 
is  cheated ;  the  Senate  changes  the  provisions ;  a 
quiddling  Secretary  of  the  interior  or  Indian  com- 
missioner refuses  to  carry  it  out ;  and  from  secretary 
down  through  contractors  and  agents,  something  is 
taken  off  the  promise  to  the  ear  by  each,  till  it  is 
thoroughly  broken  to  the  hope  of  the  poor  savage. 


126  A    SUMMER    VACATION   IN    CAMP. 

What  the  Indian  wants  is  to  be  fed  and  clothed  ; 
the  treaty  and  those  who  fulfil  it  on  our  part  may 
or  may  not  do  this  for  him,  oftenest  not ;  he  can- 
not tell  what  or  how  much  he  wants  beforehand  for 
these  ends,  and  if  he  did,  and  bargained  for  it,  the 
chances  are  ten  to  one  that  he  fails  to  get  it;  or 
getting  it,  squanders  it  at  once,  and  now,  hungry 
and  naked,  he  goes  forth  to  seek  relief  by  the  sim- 
plest law  of  nature ;  and  hence  his  excuse  and  the 
excuse  of  his  white  sympathizers  for  war. 

But  establish  Force  for  Bargain;  Responsibility 
for  Equality ;  Parentage  for  Antagonism ;  see  that 
he  is  put  apart  and  kept  apart  from  the  tide  of 
settlement,  and  civilization ;  that  he  has  food  and 
clothing,  not  in  gross,  but  in  detail;  supplying 
him  the  means  to  help  himself  in  the  simplest 
forms  possible, — stock  raising  is  practicable  to  all 
the  tribes,  and  tilling  the  soil  possible  to  most, — 
and  furnishing  the  rest  from  day  to  day ;  add  such 
education  as  he  will  take,  such  elevation  as  he  will 
be  awakened  to,  and  then  let  him  die, — as  die  he  is 
doing  and  die  he  must, — under  his  changed  life. 

This  is  the  best  and  all  we  can  do.  His  game 
flies  before  the  white  man ;  we  cannot  restore  it  to 
him  if  we  would ;  we  would  not  if  we  could ;  it  is 
his  destiny  to  die ;  we  cannot  continue  to  him  his 
original,  pure  barbaric  life;  he  cannot  mount  to 
that  of  civilization ;  the  mongrel  marriage  of  the 
two  that  he  embraces  and  must  submit  to,  is  kill- 
ing him, — and  all  we  can  do  is  to  smooth  and  make 
decent  the  pathway  to  his  grave.  All  this  is  pos- 
sible ;  and  it  need  not  cost  so  much  as  the  mixed 


COLORADO:  ITS  PARKS  AND  MOUNTAINS.    127 

state  of  war  and  bargaining  that  we  have  heretofore 
pursued.  In  the  beginning  there  must  be  the  dis- 
play and  the  use  of  power  to  unlearn  in  the  Indians 
the  false  ideas  our  alternately  cowardly  bargaining 
and  cowardly  bullying  policy  towards  them  has 
engendered ;  but  once  inaugurated,  it  will  be  simple 
and  successful, — it  will  give  us  both  peace  and  pro- 
tection, and  the  Indians  an  easier  path  to  the  grave 
than  lies  before  them  now.  More  briefly  and  sol- 
dierly, General  Sherman,  now  alive  at  last  to  the 
true  nature  of  the  question,  expresses  the  new  and 
necessary  policy :  "  Peace  and  protection  to  the 
Indians  upon  the  reservations ;  war  and  extermi- 
nation if  found  off  from  them." 

But  to  get  back  to  our  camp  and  ourselves.  The 
scare  wore  off  under  the  tonic  of  a  cool,  clear  morn- 
ing, with  splendid  visions  of  fresh  fields  of  snow 
glancing  in  the  sunlight,  the  arrival  of  our  load  of 
rifles  and  Indian  goods  safe,  a  good  breakfast  of  trout 
and  Governor  Hunt's  best  griddle-cakes,  and  the 
following  summons  to  horse  for  the  Twin  Lakes. 
Never  party  moved  out  of  camp  more  gladly ;  and  a 
few  miles  farther  on,  the  Arkansas  valley  welcomed 
us  into  a  new  country,  full  of  the  light  and  the 
freshness  and  the  joy  of  a  newly  awakened  nature. 
There  was  a  California  roll  to  the  hills  that  led  down 
to  the  river ;  the  sage  bush  that  covered  them  was 
greener  and  more  stalwart  than  that  of  the  Middle 
Park;  and  the  river  bottom  held  a  deeper  toned 
grass,  and  was  alive  with  grazing  cattle ;  while  the 
Sahwatch  range  of  mountains,  that  divides  the  Ar- 
kansas valley  from  the  Pacific  waters,  was  continu- 


128       A  SUMMER  VACATION  IN  CAMP. 

ously  higher  than  any  we  had  yet  looked  up  to,  and 
its  bold  majestic  peaks  bore  and  brought  far  down 
their  middles  that  thin  new  snow,  which  is  such  a 
touching  type  of  purity,  and  is  never  seen  without 
a  real  enthusiasm.  Governor  Bross  and  Vice-Pres- 
ident  Colfax,  who  had  been  off  spending  the  night 
among  the  miners  of  an  upper  gulch,  greeted  us, 
too,  with  felicitations  on  our  safety,  and  with  a  com- 
pany of  volunteer  cavalry,  that  did  not  desert  us 
until  all  apprehensions  of  danger  had  passed  away. 
Crossing  the  river,  descending  the  valley,  and 
then  turning  up  among  the  western  hills,  over  one, 
two  lines  of  them,  racing  and  roystering  along  with 
our  new  companions,  and  in  our  new  joys,  we  sud- 
denly came  out  over  the  Twin  Lakes,  and  stopped. 
The  scene  was,  indeed,  enchanting.  At  our  feet,  a 
half  a  mile  away,  was  the  lower  of  two  as  fine  sheets 
of  water  as  mountain  ever  shadowed,  or  wind  rip- 
pled, or  sun  illuminated.  They  took  their  places 
at  once  in  the  goodly  company  of  the  Cumberland 
Lakes  of  England,  of  Lucerne  in  Switzerland,  of 
Como  and  Laggiore  in  north  Italy,  of  Tahoe  and 
Donner  in  California,  and  no  second  rank  among 
them  all.  One  is  about  three  miles  by  a  mile  and 
a  half;  the  other  say  two  miles  by  one;  and  only  a 
fifty-rod  belt  of  grass  and  grove  separates  them. 
Above  them  on  two  sides  sharply  rise, — dark  with 
trees  and  rocks  until  the  snow  caps  with  white, — 
the  mountains  of  the  range ;  sparsely-wooded  hills 
of  grass  and  sage  bush  mount  gracefully  in  succes- 
sive benches  on  a  third, — it  was  over  these  that  we 
came  into  their  presence ;  while  to  the  south  a  nar- 


COLORADO:   ITS  PARKS  AND  MOUNTAINS.    129 

row,  broken  valley,  pushed  rapidly  by  the  moun- 
tains towards  the  Arkansas,  carries  their  outlet 
stream  to  its  home  in  the  main  river.  Clear,  hard, 
sandy  beaches  alternate  with  walls  of  rock  and  low 
marshy  meadows  in  making  the  immediate  sur- 
roundings of  both  lakes.  The  waters  are  purity 
itself,  and  trout  abound  in  them. 

Here  we  camped  for  that  and  the  next  day,  which 
was  Sunday ;  restored  our  Indian-broken  nerves ; 
caught  trout  and  picked  raspberries ;  bathed  in  the 
lakes  ;  rode  up  and  around  them  ;  looked  into  their 
waters,  and  on  over  them  to  the  mountains, — first 
green,  then  blue,  then  black,  finally  white,  and 
then  higher  to  clouds,  as  changing  in  color  under 
storm,  under  sun,  under  moon,  under  lightning. 
Every  variety  of  scene,  every  change  and  com- 
bination of  cloud  and  color  were  offered  us  in  these 
two  days ;  and  we  worshiped,  as  it  were,  at  the  very 
fountains  of  beauty,  where  its  every  element  in  na- 
ture lay  around,  before,  and  above  us. 

Also,  not  to  live  forever  in  poetry,  we  patched 
our  clothes,  greased  our  boots,  washed  our  hand- 
kerchiefs and  towels, — one  would  dry  while  another 
was  being  washed,  in  the  dry,  breezy  air, — and  ate 
boiled  onions  and  raspberry  short-cake  to  repletion. 
Bayard  Taylor's  letters  are  at  least  a  guide  to  the 
opportunities  for  good  dinners  in  Colorado ;  and 
ostensibly  with  the  purpose  to  explore  the  lakes, 
and  see  the  falls  in  the  river  above,  possibly  with  a 
thought  to  fall  upon  such  hospitality  as  he  experi- 
enced in  the  little  neighboring  village  of  Dalton, — 
another  collection  of  vacant  cabins,  with  a  new 
6* 


I3O  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

court-house,  and  only  two  occupied  tenements, — 
a  few  of  us  stole  quietly  off  for  a  Sunday  excursion. 
We  circled  the  lakes,  as  beautiful  in  detail  as  in 
grand  effect;  picked  out  many  a  charming  camp- 
ing-ground for  future  visits ;  found  along  the  shores 
one  or  two  resident  families,  and  a  tent  with  a  stove- 
pipe through  it,  where  a  Chicago  invalid  was  spend- 
ing the  summer,  gaining  vigorous  strength  and  per- 
manent health,  and  drying  quantities  of  trout,— 
think  of  trout  so  plenty  as  to  suggest  drying  them ! 
— followed  up  the  bed  of  the  stream  two  miles  of 
more  above  the  lakes  to  a  very  pretty  waterfall, 
and  a  deep  pool,  worn  out  of  solid  rock,  thick  with 
visible  trout,  whom  we  could  poke  with  long  sticks, 
but  could  not  seduce  with  fattest  of  grasshoppers ; 
lunched  off  the  mountain  raspberry  vines  ;  tracked 
a  grizzly  bear ;  and  looked  up  the  far-stretching 
gorge*  through  rocks  and  bushes  and  vines  that 
were  very  seducing, — but  came  back  to  Dalton  in 
time  to  get  our  invitation  to  dinner.  There  was 
white  table-cloth,  and  chairs,  and  fresh  beefsteak, 
and  mealy  potatoes,  and  soft  onions,  and  cream  for 
coffee,  and  raspberry  short-cake  "to  kill,"  and  a 
lady  and  gentleman  for  hostess  and  host ;  every- 
thing and  more  and  better  even  than  Taylor  had 
two  years  before.  Going  back  by  the  lakes  to 
camp  just  at  sunset,  they  were  in  their  best  estate 
of  color,  of  light  and  shade ;  and  water  and  moun- 
tain and  sky  met  and  mingled,  and  led  on  the  eye 
from  one  glory  to  another,  till  the  joy  of  the  spirit 
overcame  and  subdued  and  elevated  the  satisfaction 
of  the  senses. 


x.  / 

FROM  THE  TWIN  LAKES  TO  DENVER. 

Down  the  Arkansas  Valley — A  Picturesque  Scene — A  Sensation — 
Over  into  South  Park — Who  were  with  us,  and  How  we  Made 
Camp  and  Spent  the  Night — Governor  Bross  Grinding  Coffee — 
Governor  Hunt's  "  Slapjacks" — An  Evening  in  Camp  with  the 
Indians — Out  of  the  Park,  and  into  the  Plains — Through  "  the 
Garden  of  the  Gods" — Grand  Entree  into  Denver. 

DENVER,  Colorado,  September,  1868. 

WE  entered  the  Arkansas  valley  so  far  up  that 
its  head  was  visible.  It  leads  to  the  lowest  pass  in 
all  the  mountains  over  to  the  Pacific  slope,  not  ris- 
ing above  the  timber  line.  Like  all  the  passes  of 
the  range,  it  is  ambitious  of  a  railroad,  and  certainly 
seems  more  reasonably  so  than  many  others.  But 
for  many  years  to  come  our  continental  railroads 
will  find  lower  and  smoother  paths  both  north  and 
south  of  Colorado. 

-The  plan  of  our  journey  was  to  go  from  the 
Twin  Lakes  down  the  Arkansas,  around  the  out- 
side of  South  Park,  so  nearly  as  the  rock-bound 
banks  of  the  river  would  allow,  through  Canon  City 
and  Colorado  City,  and  up  by  the  Plains,  under  the 
eastern  line  of  the  mountains,  to  Denver.  Thus  we 
should  have  circuited  all  the  great  central  portions 


132  A    SUMMER   VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

of  the  state,  and  except  San  Luis  Park,  which  we 
should  have  left  in  the  south,  have  seen  all  the 
principal  centers  of  her  population,  all  the  distin- 
guishing features  of  her  geography  and  her  natural 
beauty.  But  this  would  have  taken  us  directly  into 
the  path  of  the  now  rampantly  hostile  Indians ;  so 
we  drew  in  our  lines,  and  made  a  narrower  circle 
across  the  South  Park,  and  up  to  Denver.  We  lost 
little  or  nothing  that  was  distinctive,  though  some 
repetitions  and  modifications  of  beautiful  scenery 
already  or  to  be  made  familiar  to  us.  But  I  urge 
all  who  come  after  us  to  follow  our  intended  route, 
and  even  to  extend  their  trip  over  into  San  Luis 
Park.  Here,  though  the  testimony  is  contradic- 
tory,  will  be  found  a  country  rich  in  beauty  and  re- 
sources, and 'with  some  features  not  characteristic 
of  the  other  great  Parks. 

First  we  rode  some  twelve  miles  down  the  valley. 
With  a  mounted  escort  of  about  twenty  gallant 
young  gold  miners,  and  the  addition  of  two  or  three 
camping  parties  that  sought  our  company  home  as 
a  sedative  to  the  nervousness  of  the  Indian  stories, 
we  made  up  a  grand  "outfit."  All  together,  there 
were  from  seventy-five  to  one  hundred  persons,  and 
as  many  animals,  as  it  moved  back  over  the  moun- 
tains into  South  Park  again.  The  first  eight  miles 
were  through  a  broken,  hilly  country,  the  moun- 
tains coming  down  to  the  river  on  each  side  in 
great  gashes  or  rolls,  occasionally  a  broad  inclined 
plain,  frequently  a  dry  ravine.  The  soil  was  light 
and  cold,  and  sage  bush  and  coarse  grass  and  thin 
forests  were  its  products,  other  than  gold.  Of  the 


COLORADO:   ITS  PARKS  AND  MOUNTAINS.    133 

latter  it  holds  in  deposit  a  plentiful  sprinkling  al- 
most everywhere ;  and  we  passed  the  prosperous 
mining  villages  of  Granite  and  Cash  Creek,  their 
peoples  tearing  up  the  ground  all  about  in  eager 
search  for  the  precious  metal. 

Little  canyons  and  big  canyons  drove  our  road 
away  from  the  river  and  over  hills  and  bluffs  for 
much  of  these  eight  miles ;  but  at  the  end  we  came 
down  into  a  wider  and  richer  opening,  and  there 
spread  before  us  a  fine  agricultural  section,  the  gar- 
,  den  of  the  upper  Arkansas.  For  thirty-five  miles 
now,  the  river,  hugging  the  hills  on  the  east,  lays 
open  a  broad,  clean,  rising  plain  of  from  one  to  ten 
miles  in  width,  before  the  rocks  and  forests  of  the 
western  mountains  -begin.  Beyond  these  thirty- 
five  miles,  the  river  canyons  again  for  a  long  course, 
and  farming  is  at  an  end,  and  travel  down  the  val- 
ley is  turned  off  into  South  Park  till  the  stream 
emerges  again  from  its  rock  embrasures.  Tributa- 
ries of  the  main  stream  slash  and  fertilize  this  great 
meadow ;  and  it  bears  large  crops  of  grain,  grass 
and  roots.  Some  twenty  farmers  have  brought 
under  profitable  cultivation  about  seven  hundred 
acres  of  this  valley;  the  mines  in  the  valleys  above 
and  over  in  South  Park  furnish  the  markets;  a 
Frenchman,  one  of  the  first  of  these  ranchmen,  and 
whose  bread  and  milk  we  devoured  as  we  went  by, 
returned  an  income  of  from  twelve  to  fifteen  thou- 
sand dollars  two  years  ago,  as  the  results  of  a  single 
season's  farming,  crops  being  good  and  prices  high  ; 
and,  spite  of  grasshoppers  and  drouth,  the  busi- 
ness is  uniformly  more  successful  than  mining. 


134  A   SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

Crossing  the  river  through  the  hospitable  French- 
man's grounds,  we  turned  up  the  hills,  and  began  to 
leave  this  inviting  country  almost  as  soon  as  we 
had  entered  it.  It  beckoned  us  back  by  scenes  of 
exquisite  beauty,  clothed  in  warm  sunshine,  and  at 
every  convenient  spot  in  the  ascending  hills,  we 
lingered  for  longing  looks,  up  and  down,  and 
across  its  lines.  All  around  on  the  lower  hills, 
down  to  the  river,  guarding  its  passage,  were 
magnificent  ruins  of  mountains ;  huge  boulders ; 
fantastic  shaped  columns;  lines  of  palisades;  the 
kernels  which  water  could  not  wash  nor  abrasion 
wear  away ;  groves  of  rocks ;  fortresses  upon  the 
river  shore, — the  Rhine  is  not  more  thickly  peopled 
with  ruined  castles;  with  pines  and  aspens  and 
coarse  bushes  growing  upon  and  among  them  all, 
including  a  new  species,  called  piny  on,  a  stunted, 
sprawling,  thick-growing  pine,  looking,  as  sfet  in  a 
grove  a  little  way  off,  like  an  old  apple  orchard. 
Starting  from  the  opposite  bank,  the  open,  rising 
meadow,  a  great  inclined  plain  of  gray  and  green, 
stretching  miles  away  up  the  sides  of  the  grand 
Sahwatch  Mountains,  whose  tops  formed  a  line  of 
snow  fields  that  overlooked  and  cooled  the  whole 
warm  scene  of  sunshine  and  life  below.  Up  and 
down  hills  we  toiled  all  the  afternoon,  refreshed  only 
and  yet  tantalized  by  occasional  glimpses  of  the 
beautiful  valley  behind,  which  seemed  to  spread 
out  all  its  beauty  of  form,  of  scene,  of  color,  to  har- 
row us  for  so  early  deserting  it. 

The  only  other  sensation  of  the  afternoon's  ride 
was  the  sudden  dashing  into  our  line  from  behind 


COLORADO:   ITS  PARKS  AND  MOUNTAINS.    135 

of  a  dozen  or  twenty  Ute  chiefs  and  warriors.  As 
we  had  not  learned  to  know  one  kind  of  Indians 
from  another,  their  galloping  in  among  us  stirred 
the  blood  a  trifle ;  but  we  soon  found  they  were 
friends,  and  pairing  off  among  our  mounted  men, 
they  were  grunting  and  gesticulating  their  story 
into  all  our  ears.  They  proved  to  be  the  leaders 
of  a  band  of  Utes  living  down  in  the  San  Luis  Park 
country,  who  had  learned,  in  the  mysterious  and 
speedy  manner  of  savages  and  wildernesses,  of  the 
uprising  of  the  hostile  Indians  of  the  Plains,  and  of 
the  presence  of  Governor  Hunt  and  our  party  in 
this  region,  and  so,  traveling  day  and  night,  they  had 
hurried  up  to  meet  us,  and  see  if  they  were  wanted, 
either  to  protect  us,  or  take  the  field  against  their 
and  our  enemies.  Not  without  a  selfish  thought, 
too,  perhaps,  for  blankets  and  beef.  They  camped 
with  us  that  night,  were  well-fed  and  well-promised, 
and  went  back  home  the  next  day.  The  Governor 
had  neither  authority  nor  means  to  put  them  into 
the  field  against  the  Plain  Indians;  nor  was  it  clear 
that  there  was  any  occasion  for  it. 

We  pushed  up  near  to  the  tops  of  the  mountains, 
riding  far  into  the  evening,  before  camping,  and 
finally  pitched  our  tents  in  a  great  meadow,  heavy 
with  grass,  and  interspersed  with  little  wooded 
knolls,  within  and  around  one  of  which  we  built 
our  fires  and  laid  our  blankets  for  the  night.  We 
needed  them  all,  for  it  was  dreary  cold  before 
morning,  and  water  froze  in  our  cups  on  the  way 
from  the  brook  half  a  mile  off.  But  the  forenoon's 
sun  and  saddle  brought  summer  warmth  back  ;  and 


136  A    SUMMER   VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

we  were  not  long  in  getting  over  the  range  and 
down  into  South  Park.  We  entered  it  about  at  the 
middle,  and  it  seemed  tamer  and  less  green  than 
in  the  upper  sections.  Alkali  and  salt  deposits 
whitened  the  surface  in  great  patches,  and  so  rich 
are  the  springs  with  salt  at  one  spot,  that  a  large 
establishment  for  evaporating  the  water  and  mak- 
ing salt  is  in  operation,  and  holds  a  profitable  mo- 
nopoly of  the  salt  market  of  the  state.  We  made 
a  fine  noon  camp  by  one  of  the  everlasting  Plattes, 
and  trout-catching  was  brisk  for  an  hour. 

Here,  too,  we  had  another  Indian  raid, — the  out- 
posts of  our  old  Middle  Park  Utes,  who  had  heard 
the  story  of  the  Plain  Indians  coming  up  into  the 
South  Park,  and  moved  over  in  a  body  to  dispos- 
sess them,  came  wildly  and  joyfully  riding  in  upon 
us,  a  dozen  or  two,  with  some  white  friends  from 
Fairplay.  So  our  escort  doubled,  and  we  trav- 
eled across  the  Park  with  as  large  and  as  motley 
a  retinue  as  ever  Oriental  prince  moved  among 
over  the  deserts  of  Asia.  Only,  with  true  Ameri- 
can individuality,  we  scattered  wildly  about,  and 
lingered  or  hurried  at  pleasure  over  the  wide  open 
plains,  dotted  with  occasional  hill  and  lake,  the  lat- 
ter repeated  by  mirage  in  the  distance,  or  by  the 
deceptive  resemblance  of  an  alkali  field,  and  circled 
by  the  far-distant,  far-reaching  mountains.  Every- 
thing else  failing  or  fatiguing,  from  sheer  abun- 
dance,— mountain,  field,  grass,  forest,  color,  the  at- 
mosphere remained,  a  feeling  of  beauty  that  minis- 
tered to  several  senses  without  ever  palling  the 
appetite  of  either. 


COLORADO:   ITS  PARKS  AND  MOUNTAINS.    137 

We  made  grand  camp  that  night  about  a  mile  be- 
yond Fairplay,  on  a  gently  sloping  plateau,  backed 
by  a  thick  aspen  grove,  watered  at  its  base  by  a 
fresh  stream,  fronted  by  the  broad  Park  meadows, 
looking  towards  sundown,  and  taking  the  best  light 
of  the  full  moon  through  its  nightly  circle  of  the 
horizon.  The  dozen  or  twenty  Utes  enlisted  to  go 
through  with  us  to  Denver,  and  made  a  camp  for 
themselves  a  few  rods  away  among  the  trees.  The 
mounted  men  were  usually  the  first  in  camp ;  they 
stripped  their  animals  of  saddles  and  bridles  and 
blankets,  and  sent  them  galloping  off  for  grass  and 
water.  As  fast  as  the  wagons  came  up,  they  took 
their  places  in  the  grand  circle  of  the  camp-ground, 
and  were  unloaded  of  tents,  baggage  and  provi- 
sions, and  their  horses  loosened  to  join  the  others. 
Smooth  spots  were  chosen  for  the  tents  in  a  semi- 
circle, and  the  tents  put  up  by  the  most  adroit  in 
that  business.  There  was  one  for  Governor  Hunt 
and  his  family;  another  for  Mr.  Witter  and  his, 
consisting  of  himself;  his  wife  (Mr.  Colfax's  sister), 
a  babe  eight  weeks  old, — think  of  that,  you  tender 
mothers  in  four- walled  and  close-roofed  houses  in 
civilization ! — and  Mr.  Colfax's  mother  and  father ; 
a  third  for  the  young  ladies ;  Governor  BrosS  and  v 
the  Vice-President  used  one  of  the  large  covered 
wagons  for  lodgings ;  my  friend  Lord  and  myself 
had  a  little  tent  by  ourselves ;  and  the  rest,  des-  ' 
pising  such  paltry  interventions  of  effeminacy,  lay 
around  in  the  softest,  shadiest  places,  under  the 
wagons,  under  trees,  always  near  the  fires.  The 
little  sheet-iron  cooking-stoves,  one  for  each  of  the 


138  A    SUMMER   VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

two  messes  into  which  our  original  party  was  di- 
vided, were  simultaneously  planted  and  fired  up. 
The.open  fires  were  located,  and  the  Vice-President, 
Governor  Bross,  Mr.  Thomas  of  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tain News,  and  any  other  idle  and  otherwise  in- 
competent persons  were  detailed  to  fetch  wood  for 
them.  Soon  a  huge  fire  blazed  in  front  of  each 
tent.  Then  the  wood-haulers  became  water-car- 
riers. Next  the  fastidious  made  their  toilets ;  and 
Governor  Hunt  called  for  assistant  cooks. 

This  night  we  were  to  have  an  extra  meal.  To 
start  with,  and  especially  to  provide  quantity  for 
the  capacious  Indian  stomachs,  a  herd  of  cattle 
were  driven  up  from  the  meadow,  and  Mr.  Curtis, 
the  Indian  interpreter,  passing  them  in  review,  rifle 
in  hand,  and,  choosing  a  fat  young  cow,  sent  a  ball 
unerringly  into  her  forehead,  and  she  fell  dead  in- 
stantly. It  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever  seen  this 
speedy,  humane  manner  of  butchering;  and  Mr. 
Bergh,  the  anti-cruelty  man,  ought  to  demand  its 
universal  use.  The  animal  was  soon  cut  up,  and  a 
few  choice  pieces  brought  to  our  camp,  but  the  In- 
dians carried  off  the  bulk  to  theirs,  and,  with  forked 
sticks  and  open  fire,  and  a  little  salt,  were  soon 
filling  up  their  waste  places.  The  village  furnished 
us  cream  and  fresh  supplies  of  sugar.  Soon  we  had 
beefsteak  frying,  mush  and  milk  in  proper  prog- 
ress, oyster  soup  and  tomatoes  stewing,  hominy 
warming,  a  huge  section  of  ribs  of  beef  roasting 
on  a  forked  stick  before  the  fire,  coffee  and  tea 
brewing,  biscuits  baking  at  one  mess,  and  slapjacks 
browning  at  another.  Governor  Bross  earned  his 


. 


COLORADO:  ITS  PARKS  AND  MOUNTAINS.    139 


:pper  by  grinding  coffee  for  half  an  hour,  and  after- 
wards, his  hand  having  grown  supple,  you  could 
have  seen  him,  seated  on  an  empty  whisky-keg, 
turning  the  griddle-cakes  to  perfection;  and  your 
correspondent  won  his  glory  and  victual  by  mak- 
ing the  "  long-sweetening,"  i.  e.  white  sugar  melted 
into  a  permanent  syrup.  Then  there  were  canned 
peaches  and  raspberries  for  dessert.  All  this,  seated 
on  our  haunches  on  the  ground  or  on  bended  knees 
around  the  board  and  box  that  served  for  tables, 
each  with  a  tin  plate  and  cup,  and  knife  and  fork 
and  spoon  to  match,  and  all  with  appetites  worthy 
the  food.  We  generally  "  boarded  around,"  that  is 
ate  at  the  mess  which  happened  to  have  the  most 
inviting  meal,  and  as  there  is  no  knowledge  so 
satisfactory  as  the  experimental  on  such  a  subject, 
it  commonly  resulted  in  our  eating  at  both.  It  is 
surprising  how  excellent  food  can  be  had  in  such  a 
camping  expedition  with  a  little  painstaking  and 
tact  in  providing  and  cooking.  Governor  Hunt  was 
master  of  all  the  arts  of  camp-life,  and  under  his 
care  we  "fared  sumptuously  every  day."  The  slap- 
jacks and  their  "long-sweetening"  were  an  incom- 
parable dish,  and  took  the  place  of  bread  at  Gov- 
ernor Hunt's  table. 

Supper  over,  and  the  dishes  washed,  in  which  last 
operation  "equal  rights"  were  sometimes  allowed 
the  women,  all  gathered  around  the  central  camp- 
fires,  with  shawls,  buffalo  robes  and  blankets  for 
protection  from  the  ground ;  our  friends  traveling 
in  company,  who  had  made  separate  camps  adjoin- 
ing, came  over  to  spend  the  evening ;  to-night  our 


I4O  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

escort  party  from  the  Arkansas  valley  had  supped 
with  us,  and  were  "about  to  say  farewell  \  and  their 
Indian  successors,  having  become  happy  and  hilari- 
ous, were  invited  and  welcomed  into  the  circle ;  and 
thus  re-enforced  and  diversified,  we  made  a  gala 
night  of  it.  It  was  a  very  curious  scene  indeed. 
The  blaze  'of  the  camp-fire  contrasted  sharply  with 
the  light  of  the  moon,  and  brought  out  in  fine  re- 
lief all  the  hundred  varying  faces  and  strange  cos- 
tumes gathered  around.  Speeches  were  -made  and 
songs  sung;  Mr.  Colfax  addressed  the  Utes,  and 
his  words  were  interpreted  to  them  by  Mr.  Curtis, 
and  the  reply  of  their  chief  to  us ;  and  then  we 
called  for  songs  from  them.  Stimulated  by  a  pile 
of  white  sugar  that  Governor  Hunt  threw  down  at 
their  feet,  they  got  up  and  responded  with  spirit. 
Standing  in  a  row,  shoulders  touching,  and  sway- 
ing to  and  fro  in  a  long  line  by  one  motion,  they 
chanted  in  a  low,  guttural  way,  all  on  one  key,  and 
only  musical  as  it  was  correct  monotone.  Then 
there  were  more  songs  and  sentiments  from  the 
whites;  the  Indians  were  dismissed;  our  kind  friends 
from  the  Arkansas  said  good-by;  and  soon  the  fires 
of  camp  were  dull,  and  all  its  life  still  in  sleep, — a 
sleep  of  trust  and  safety,  there  under  the  open  sky, 
with  a  village  of  all  sorts  of  people  a  mile  away, 
and  a  band  of  savages  within  six  rods.  It  was  all 
so  incongruous  and  anomalous  to  our  home  thought 
and  life;  and  yet  we  felt  as  safe,  and  were  as 
safe,  as  in  double-bolted  houses  on  police-patrolled 
streets.  Only  the  contrasts  forced  themselves  into 
the  wakeful  moments  of  night  and  morning,  as  we 


COLORADO  I     ITS    PARKS   AND    MOUNTAINS.     141 

turned  over  and  refastened  the  blankets,  and  piled 
more  baggage  over  chilly  feet,  and  peered  out  into 
the  dead  stillness  of  the  camp,  broken  may-be  by 
the  dull  snoring  of  a  heavy  sleeper,  and  the  far-off 
browsing  of  a  greedy  mule ;  sounds  brought  near 
and  made  loud  by  the  hush  of  human  life, 'and  the 
reign  of  nature's  peace. 

Out  of  the  Park  and  into  the  hills  that  separate 
it  from  the  Plains  the  next  day.  The  way  was 
familiar,  the  road  for  the  most  part  good.  We  scat- 
tered along,  two  or  three  together,  through  fiv/or 
six  miles ;  closing  up  for  lunch,  and  again  for  night 
camp.  Our  Indian  escort,  familiar  with  every  rod 
of  the  country,  roamed  at  will,  taking  short  cuts  over 
the  hills,  and  appearing  first  in  the  rear,  then  far  in 
advance.  We  had  a  beautiful  camp,  after  twenty- 
five  miles  ride,  in  a  narrow  but  long  little  valley, 
that  bowed  the  sun  out  at  one  end,  as  it  welcomed 
the  moon  up  at  the  other.  The  next  day,  too,  all 
among  the  hills,  riding  another  twenty-five  miles ; 
the  roads  improving ;  ranches  thickening, — no  lack 
now  of  buttermilk  or  cream ;  travelers  grew  nu- 
merous ;  daily  newspapers  coming  in  ;  and  the  end 
dawning.  It  was  a  pleasant  mountain  country,  open, 
free,  lightly  wooded,  abundantly  watered,  and  the  val- 
leys rich  for  grass  and  grain.  The  streams,  too,  hold 
trout,  and  the  hills  are  thick  with  raspberries, — it  is 
up  here  that  the  Denverites  come  for  their  briefer 
mountain  excursions,  and  this  is  the  common  road 
for  commerce  and  for  pleasure  into  the  South  Park. 

Our  night  camp  now  was  the  last  of  the  excur- 
sion. It  was  near  the  junction  of  the  roads  lead- 


142  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

ing  to  'Denver  by  the  Plains  and  to  Idaho  through 
the  mountains.  There  was  a  rivalry  among  the 
cooking-stoves  for  the  best  farewell  supper;  but 
the  slapjacks  gave  Governor  Hunt  the  victory, — 
there  was  no  equalling,  no  resisting  them.  Around 
the  camp-fire,  we  "talked  it  over;"  hilarious  with 
a  vein  of  sadness ;  humorous  with  a  touch  of  pathos ; 
Mr.  Colfax  made  his  excellent  speech,  beginning, 
"this  is  the  saddest  moment  of  my  life;"  we  sang 
auld-lang-syne,  and  prepared  for  an  early  start  in 
th^  morning. 

The  breakfast  dishes  were  packed  dirty, — "  after 
us  the  Deluge," — and  camp  was  broken  by  eight 
o'clock  with  the  cry,  "  Ho,  for  Denver."  The  going 
out  of  the  mountains  was  very  fine.  The  several 
miles  through  Turkey  Creek  Canyon,  the  road  wind- 
ing along  with  the  stream  at  the  bottom  of  a  high 
gorge  of  rocks,  were  fresh  and  exhilarating ;  we  had 
gone  around  canyons  before,  painfully  and  labori- 
ously ;  now  to  follow  one  by  a  narrow  but  firm  road 
offered  new  and  picturesque  views.  This  was  not 
unlike  the  Via  Mala  of  Switzerland ;  arid  coming 
out,  the  road  circled  a  high  precipitous  hill  midway 
in  its  side,  an  expensive  and  excellent  bit  of  road- 
making,  such  as  is  rarely  seen  anywhere  in  America. 

Here  we  overlooked  the  grand  ocean  of  the  Plains, 
and  came  upon  the  struggles  of  nature  to  leave  off 
mountain  and  begin  plain.  Along  here,  as  at  other 
points  below,  there  seems  to  have  been  an  especial 
and  antagonistic  fold  thrown  up  almost  abruptly 
from  the  level  plain.  Pike's  Peak,  which  is  dis- 
tinct from  the  main  range,  is  the  chief  endeavor  or  ^ 


COLORADO:   ITS  PARKS  AND  MOUNTAINS.    143 

culmination  of  this  throe  of  the  formation.  And 
around  it,  as  here,  are  grouped  monuments  or 
remains  of  mountains,  alike  grotesque,  command- 
ing, impressive ;  taking  all  shapes,  and  giving  the 
thought  that  somebody  greater  and  higher  than 
man  had  made  here  familiar  home.  The  collection 
of  these  ruins  near  Pike's  Peak  and  Colorado  City, 
which  we  missed  seeing  because  of  the  Indian  war, 
is  called  "The  Garden  of  the  Gods,"  and  the  name 
not  unfitly  clothes  the  impression  they  make.  They 
are  not  boulders  or  piles  of  rock,  but  what  is  left 
of  mountains  washed  and  worn  away  by  waters 
and  winds.  The  body  is  \  fine  reddish  granite ; 
and  they  stand  sentinelled  about  upon  the  bare 
closing  bluffs  of  the  hills,  with  forms  of  such  maj- 
esty and  such  personality,  as  arouses  one's  wonder 
and  deepens  curiosity  into  awe. 

Down  into  the  last  ravine,  and  out  upon  the  long 
rolls  of  the  Plains.  The  Platte  and  its  branches 
wind  with  their  gardens  of  grain  and  their  groves 
of  trees  about  in  the  far  distance,  making  ^  pleas- 
antly variegated  map  of  green  of  the  vast  picture. 
Bear  Creek  especially  offers  a  charming  principality 
of  its  own.  And  far  in  the  thin  haze  the  steeples 
and  blocks  of  Denver  stand  upon  the  sky.  Herds 
of  grazing  cattle  are  scattered  along  on  both  sides 
of  the  road ;  and  with  a  common  hunger  for  home 
and  civilization,  beasts  and  drivers  spur  each  other 
into  rapid  gait.  Our  day's  ride  of  twenty-five  miles 
is  finished  by  two  o'clock,  and  we  stop  before  enter- 
ing the  town  to  "  serry  the  ranks,"  and  ,try  the  un- 
accustomed draughts  of  a  suburban  brewery. 


144  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN'  CAMP. 

A  circus  would  have  been  a  poor  show  compared 
to  the  procession  that  then  passed  into  Denver. 
First  were  the  faithful  Utes,  gay  with  bright  blan- 
kets and  yellow  and  red  paint ;  a  bride  among  them, 
beaded  and  bespangled  from  head  to  foot ;  then  our 
own  cavaliers  and  cavalieresses,  their  plumage  not 
over  gay  after  a  fortnight's  mountain  use,  their  ani- 
mals worn  and  sorry  from  hard  riding  and  no  oats ; 
next  carriages,  ambulances  and  baggage^wagons, 
out  of  which  peered  flapping  sun  bonnets  and 
browned  faces,  with  every  other  wheel  bound  in 
huge  sticks  from  the  forest  to  keep  them  from 
dropping  to  pieces ;  and  finally  Governor  Evans's 
carriage,  altogether  minus  two*  wheels,  and  just 
lifted  from  the  ground  by  two  poles  that  dragged 
their  slow  length  along  behind.  Despite  the  so- 
lemnity of  the  town  over  the  Indian  raids ;  despite 
the  dignity  of  demeanor  due  to  high  officials,  Ute 
.  chiefs,  Colorado  chiefs,  Illinois  chiefs,  Washington 
fathers,|-the  street  broke. into  a  horse,  neigh  a 
mule  laugh  that  rolled  along  from. block  to  block, 
and  turned  the  back  doors  out  in  affright  lest 
Cherry  Creek  had  come  to  town  again.  And  then 
we  were  dismissed  to  assure  our  friends  of  our 
identity,  and  reconstruct  ourselves. 


XI. 

MINES,   MINING    AND    MINERS. 

Review  of  the  Mining  interests  of  Colorado — Present  Condition 
*  of  Affairs  in  the  Quartz  Centers — Central  City,  Georgetown, 
''Mill  City,  Empire  City,  etc. — Renewal  of  Gulch-Mining,  its 
Profits,  and  its  Promises — Present  Yield  of  Gold  and  Silver, 
and  its  Certain  Increase — Population  of  Colorado,  and  the 
Idiosyncracies  of  itSuMiners.  ' 

DENVER,  Colorado,  September,  1868. 
IT  remains  for  me  to  speak  of  the  industrial 
interests,  growth,  prosperity,  and  promise,  of  Col- 
orado. These  have  only  been  incidentally  alluded 
to  so  far;  but  they  deserve  special  exhibition. 
The  change  in  its  material  affairs  and  prospects, 
since  we  were  here  three  years  ago,  is  most  marked 
and  healthy.  Then-,  the  original  era  of  speculation, 
of  waste,  of  careless  and  unintelligent  work,- and  as 
little  of  it  as  possible,  of  living  by  wit  instead  of 
labor,  of  reliance  upon  eastern "  capital  iiistead  of 
home  industry,  was,  if  not  at  its  hight,  still  reign- 
ing, but  with  signs  of  decay  and  threatening 
despair.  The  next  two1  years,  1866  and  1867, 
affairs  became  desperate ;  the  population  shrunk ; 
mines  were  abandoned ;  mills  stopped ;  eastern 
capital,  tired  of  waiting  for  promised  returns,  dried 
7 


1-16  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 


' 


up  its  fountains;  and  the  secrets  of  the  rich  ores 
seemed  unfathomable.     Residents,  who  could  no' 
get  away,  were  put  to  their  trumps  for  a  living ; 
and  economy  and   work  were   enforced  upon   all. 
Thus  weeded  out,  thus  stimulated,  the  population  f 
fell  back  on  the  certainties;  such  mining  as  was 
obviously  remunerative  was  continued ;  the  doubt- 
ful and  losing  abandoned ;  the  old  and  simple  dirt 
washing  for  gold  was  resumed,  and  followed  with 
more  care;  and  farming  rose  in  respectability  and 
promise.     The  discovery  and  opening  of  specially 
rich  silver  mines  near  Georgetown  kept  hope  and 
courage  alive,  and  freshened  speculation  in  a  new 
quarter ;  but  the  main  fact  of  the  new  era  was  that 
the  people  went  to  work,  became  self-reliant,  and,  * 
believing  that  they  "had  a  good  thing"  out  here, 
undertook  to  prove  it  to  the  world  by  intelligent 
and  economic  industry. 

These  were  the  kernel  years  of  Colorado  ;  they 
proved  her ;  they  have  made  her.  Her  gold  prod- 
uct went  down,  probably,  to  a  million  dollars  say, 
in  each  of  1866  and  1867;  but  it  began- at  once, 
under  the  new  order  of  things,  to  rise ;  and  agricul- 
ture also  at  once  shot  up  and  ahead,  and  directly 
assumed,  as  it  has  in  California,  the  place  of  the 
first  interest,  the  great  wealth.  No  more  flour,  no 
more  corn,  no  more  potatoes  at  six  cents  to  twelve 
cents  a  pound  freight,  from  the  Missouri  River ; 
in  one  year  Colorado  became  self-supporting  in 
food ;  in  the  second  an  exporter,  the  feeder  of  Mon-  < 
tana,  the  contractor  for  the  government  posts  and 
the  Pacific  Railroad  ;  and  now,  in  the  third  year, 


COLORADO  I     ITS    PARKS   AND    MOUNTAINS.     147 

with  food  cheaper  than  in  "  the  States,"  she  forces 
the  Mississippi  and  Missouri  valleys  to  keep  their 
produce  at  home  or  send  it  East.  She  feeds  the 
whole  line  of  the  Pacific  Railroad  this  side  the  con- 
tinental divide,  and  has  even  been  sending  some  of 
her  vegetables  to  Omaha.  Her  gold  and  silver 
product  is  up  to  at  least  two  millions  this  year,  got 
out  at  a  profit  of  from  twenty-five  to  fifty  per  cent, 
is  now  at  the  rate  of  nearly  if  not  quite  three  mil- 
lions, and  will  certainly  surpass  that  sum  in  1869. 
Her  agricultural  products  must  be  twice  as  much 
at  least,  certainly  four  millions  for  1868,  and  per- 
haps six  millions ;  though  it  is  difficult  to  make 
as  certain  estimates  in  this  particular,  and  the  In- 
dians have  worked  great  mischief  with  the  ingather- 
ing of  the  crops  this  fall. 

Central  City,  in  the  midst  of  the  mountains  on 
the  north  branch  of  Clear  Creek,  continues  to  be 
the  center  of  the  gold  quartz-mining;  and  business 
there  was  never  more  healthily  prosperous  than 
now.  All  its  stamp  mills  are  in  operation,  and  more 
are  being  erected ;  for  after  wearily  waiting  through 
two  or  three  years  for  more  effective  processes  for 
reducing  the  ores,  their  owners  have  set  these  in 
operation  again,  simplified,  perfected  and  econo- 
mized their  working,  and,  from  about  one  hundred 
and  forty  mills  and  seven  hundred  and  fifty  stamps, 
are  now  producing  near  fifty  thousand  dollars  of 
gold  a  week,  at  a  cost  for  both  mining  and  milling 
of  from  two-thirds  to  three-quarters  that  sum.  An- 
other season  will  see  say  fifty  mills  and  one  thou- 
sand stamps  at  work  in  this  valley.  The  most 


148       A  SUMMER  VACATION  IN  CAMP. 

valuable  ores  of  the  neighboring  mines  are  not  put  ^ 
through  this  process,  but  are  sold  at  about  one 
hundred  dollars  a  ton  to  Professor  Hill's  smelting  < 
or  Swansea  works,  now  established  here,  and  work- 
ing the  richer  and  sulphuretted  ores  with  an  econ^  < 
omy  and  completeness  that  the  plain  stamp  mills 
cannot  do.  The  ores  worked  in  the  latter  form  the 
principal  product  of  the  mines,  and  produce  under 
the  stamps  about  twenty-five  dollars  a  ton,  while 
the  cost  for  mining  and  milling  is  about  fifteen  dol- 
lars. If  steam  is  used  the  cost  goes  up  to  twenty 
dollars.  The  Swansea  and  the  plain  stamp  mill 
are  the  only  " processes"  now  in  use  in  this  valley. 
Professor  Hill  has  proved  the  success  and  profit  of 
the  former,  at  least  for  all  high-class  ores.  He  is 
giving  from  eighty  to  one  hundred  and  twenty-five 
dollars  a  ton  for  such  ore,  and  probably  makes  from 
thirty  to  forty  dollars  a  ton  on  it ;  and  his  purchases 
amount  to  some  twenty  thousand  dollars  a  month. 
He  is  already  doubling  his  furnaces.  But  the  prob- 
lem is  to  apply  his  process  profitably  to  lower  class 
ores ;  to  such  as  hold  from  twenty-five  to  fifty  dol- 
lars a  ton,  and  of  which  there  are  almost  literally, 
mountains  in  Colorado.  The  free  or  simple  gold 
ores  of  this  grade  can  be  worked  well  enough  by 
stamps  and  amalgamation,  as  in  Central  City  and 
California,  and  the  cost  thereof  can  be  ultimately 
reduced  to  probably  one-half  of  present  prices ;  but 
these  constitute  only  a  fraction  of  the  rich  ores  of 
Colorado.  Most  of  them  hold  both  silver  and  gold, 
combined  with  sulphurets  of  iron,  and  a  process 
which  gets  one  leaves  the  other,  except,  of  course, 


COLORADO  :     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.     149 

smelting,  which  at  present  is  too  expensive  for  any 
but  highly-freighted  ores.  This  is  why  thousands 
of  mines  are  unworked  to-day ;  why  scores  of  mills 
with  unperfected  processes,  or  plain  stamps,  stand 
idle,  rotting  and  rusting  in  all  parts  of  the  territory ; 
and  why  deserted  cabins  and  vacant  villages  lie  scat- 
tered in  all  the  valleys  about, — telling  their  tragic 
tales  of  loss  and  disappointment,  monuments  of 
the  enthusiasm  and  the  credulity  of  miner  and  capi- 
talist, who  labored  and  invested  wildly  and  before 
their  time. 

Some  silver  mine  discoveries  have  recently  been 
made  in  the  Central  City  region ;  indeed,  there  is 
silver  in  all  the  gold  ores,  and  gold  in  all  the  silver 
ores  of  the  territory,  and  lead  and  copper  in  most 
besides ;  but  the  head-quarters  of  the  silver  busi- 
ness is  at  Georgetown,  ten  or  a  dozen  miles  over 
the  mountains  from  Central  City,  at  the  head  of  the 
south  branch  of  Clear  Creek.  Around  and  above 
.  this  now  thriving  and  most  beautifully  located  of  the 
principal  mining  villages  of  Colorado  ;  at  nine  thou- 
sand, ten  thousand,  on  even  to  twelve  and  thirteen 
thousand  feet  above  the  sea  level,  almost  unap- 
proachable save  in  summer,  and  then  only  by  pack 
mules  or  on  foot,  are  many  marvelously  rich  silver 
veins  in  the  rocks.  Hundreds  of  mines  have  been 
opened ;  but  only  a  dozen  or  twenty  are  now  being 
actually  worked  with  profitable  results.  The  rest 
await  purchasers  from  their  "prospectors,"  or  capi- 
tal to  develop  them.  The  ore  from  the  leading 
mines  ranges  from  one  hundred  to  one  thousand 
dollars  a  ton.  Only  two  mills  for  reducing  the  ore 


I5O  A    SUMMER   VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

are  in  operation ;  one  treats  the  second  class  ore, 
such  as  will  average  say  two  hundred  dollars  a  ton, 
reducing  it  by  crushing  or  stamping,  then  washing 
with  salt  to  oxydize  it,  and  then  amalgamating  with 
quicksilver,  at  a  cost  of  from  fifty  to  one  hundred 
dollars  a  ton ;  and  the  other  smelting  the  higher 
priced  ores,  at  a  cost  probably  of  one  hundred  to 
two  hundred  dollars  a  ton.  The  latter  establish- 
ment buys  outright  most  of  the  ore  it  reduces,  and 
has  paid  all  the  way  from  five  hundred  to  six  hun- 
dred and  seventy-five  dollars  a  ton  for  it.  Both 
processes  get  out  from  seventy-five  to  ninety  per 
cent  of  the  assay  value  of  the  ore ;  but  they  are 
imperfect  and  expensive,  and  much  of  the  best  ore 
is  sent  East  for  treatment.  The  Equator  mine, 
owned  by  a  party  of  railroad  men  from  Chicago,  is 
one  of  the  two  or.  three  prizes  here,  and  sends  its 
first-class  ore,  worth  from  nine  hundred  to  one 
thousand  dollars  a  ton,  all  the  way  to  Newark,  N. 
J.,  to  be  reduced.  Thirty  tons  were  packed  for 
shipment  the  day  I  was  there.  The  superior  yield 
under  the  closer  and  more  economical  treatment  at 
Newark  more  than  pays  for  the  freight,  which  is 
but  forty-eight  dollars  a  ton.  The  Equator  mine 
claims  to  have  yielded  one  hundred  thousand  dol- 
lars' worth  of  ore  this  season,  and  brags  of  a  mil- 
lion next.  Only  a  portion  of  its  ore  taken  out  is 
yet  worked.  There  are  several,  perhaps  half  a 
dozen  other  mines  nearly  as  good  as  this. 

Georgetown  now  has  a  population  of  about  three 
thousand,  and  the  best  hotel  in  the  territory.  It 
is  one  of  the  places  that  every  tourist  should  visit, 


COLORADO:  ITS  PARKS  AND  MOUNTAINS.    151 

partly  for  its  silver  mines,  partly  because  the  road 
•  to  it  up  the  South  Clear  Creek  is  through  one  of 
the  most  interesting  sections  of  the  mountains, 
and  partly  that  it  is  the  starting-point  for  the  as- 
cension of  Gray's  Peaks.  The  traveler  can  go  up 
to  the  top  of  that  mountain  and  back  to  George- 
town between  breakfast  and  supper ;  and  if  he  will 
not  take  his  tour  by  the  Snake  and  Blue  Rivers 
to  the  Middle  or  South  Park,  he  should  certainly 
make  this  day's  excursion  from  Georgetown.  Cen- 
tral City  and  its  neighborhood  are  much  less  inter- 
esting to  the  mere  pleasure  traveler.  That  town, 
with  its  four  thousand  or  five  thousand  inhabitants, 
is  crowded  into  a  narrow  gulch,  rather  than  valley, 
torn  with  floods,  and  dirty  with  the  debris  of  mills 
and  mines  that  spread  themselves  over  everything. 
Scattered  about,  in  Boulder  District,  on  the 
Snake,  over  on  the  Upper  Arkansas,  up  among 
the  gulches  of  the  South  Park  hills,  are  a  few 
more  quartz  mills,  some  in  operation,  more  not; 
but  the  principal  business  of  quartz  mining  is  done 
in  the  sections  I  have  named,  in  Gilpin  and  Clear 
Creek  counties.  Mill  City,  Empire,  and  Idaho  are 
villages  in  this  section,  with  their  mines  and  mills, 
doing  a  little  something,  struggling  to  prove  their 
capacity,  but  hardly  in  a  single  case  making  money,- 
partly  because  of  the  poverty  of  the  ore,  but  chiefly 
because  it  is  refractory,  and  will  not  yield  up  its 
possessions  to  any  known  and  reasonably  cheap 
process.  Time,  patience,  and  cheaper  labor  will 
bring  good  results  out  of  many  of  these  invest- 
ments; but  others  will  have  to  go  to  swell  the 


152  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

great  number  of  failures  that  stand  confessed  all 
over  this  as  all  over  every  other  mining  country. 

There  are  great  tunneling  schemes  proposed  or 
started  in  the  Georgetown  silver  district,  by  which 
the  various  ore  veins  of  a  single  mountain  are  to 
be  cut  deep  down  in  their  depths,  and  their  wealth 
brought  out  of  a  single  mouth  in  the  valley,  at  a 
much  cheaper  rate  than  by  digging  down  from  the 
top  on  the  vein's  course  and  hauling  up.  The 
"Burleigh  drill"  from  Massachusetts,  that  has  been 
in  use  in  the  Hoosac  tunnel,  has  been  introduced 
here  for  this  purpose ;  and  successful  mining  on  a 
grand  scale  will  soon  take  this  form,  not  only  here, 
but  in  Nevada,  and  indeed  in  most  of  our  mining 
States. 

The  other  form  of  mining,  known  as  gulch- 
mining  or  dirt-washing,  is  increasing  again,  and 
has  employed  full  three  hundred  men  this  season. 
Fifty  to  seventy-five  of  these  are  at  work  in  the 
Clear  Creek  and  Boulder  valleys  ;  but  the  great 
body  of  them  are  scattered  through  Park,  Lake, 
and  Summit  counties,  on  the  Snake  and  other 
tributaries  of  the  Blue  River  ;  on  the  upper  Plattes 
in  South  Park ;  and  on  the  upper  Arkansas  and  its 
side  valleys.  They  have  averaged  twelve  dollars  a 
day  to  a  man;  but  the  season  for  this  kind  of 
mining  is  less  than  half  the  year,  in  some  places 
because  of  ice  and  snow ;  in  most  for  lack  of  water. 
The  year's  product  from  gulch-mining  will  certainly 
foot  up  half  a  million  dollars,  probably  a  hundred 
thousand  more.  New  gulches  and  fresh  "bars,"  or 
deposits  of  sand,  brought  down  from  the  hills  by 


COLORADO:    ITS  PARKS  AND  MOUNTAINS.    153 

the  streams,  have  been  opened  this,  year  in  prepa- 
ration for  another  year's  work  ;  and  it  is  not  unrea- 
sonable to  look  for  a  million  dollars  from  gulch- 
mining  next  year. 

These  figures  seem  small  compared  with  the 
amounts  reported  to  be  got  out  in  the  years  fol- 
lowing the  first  gold  discoveries  in  1859, — in  '60  to 
'64, — when  one  year's  production  ran  up  as  high  as 
six  or  eight  millions,  and  for  several  years  averaged 
probably  four ;  when  hundreds  if  not  thousands  of 
eager  miners  were  gathered  in  a  single  gulch,  and 
ran  over  its  sands  with  a  reckless  waste,  taking  off 
the  cream  of  the  deposits,  and  then  moving  on  to 
new  places,  and,  finally  exhausting  both  their  own 
first  enthusiasm,  and  all  the  best  or  most  obvious 
chances,  turning  away  in  disgust  at  a  "played  out'* 
territory.  But  "the  business  is  now  resumed  in  a 
more  systematic,  intelligent  and  economical  way; 
labor  is  cheaper ;  miners  are  satisfied  with  more 
moderate  returns ;  and  there  is  really  almost  no 
limit  to  these  valleys  and  banks,  under  the  hills 
and  along  the  rivers,  whose  sands  and  gravel  hold 
specks  of  gold  in  sufficient  quantity  to  pay  for  wash- 
ing over.  An  intelligent  investigator  of  the  subject 
tells  me  that  the  whole  of  South  Park  would  pay 
three  to  four  dollars  a  day  for  the  labor  of  washing 
it  over.  But  I  pray  it  may  not  be  done  while  I  live 
to  come  to  these  Mountains  and  the  Parks;  for 
gold-washing  leaves  a  terrible  waste  in  its  track. 

In  the  valley  of  the  Blue  and  its  tributaries,  more 
extensive  works  for  gulch-mining  exist  than  in  any 

other  district ;  there,  not  less  than  eighty-four  miles 
7* 


1 54  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

of  ditches  to  bring  water  to  wash  out  the  gold  with 
have  been  constructed,  and  the  amount  of  water 
they  carry  in  the  aggregate  is  eight  thousand  seven 
hundred  and  fifty  inches.  One  of  these  ditches  is 
eleven  miles  long;  two  others  seven  miles  each; 
another  five,  and  so  on ;  and  they  cost  from  one 
thousand  to  twelve  hundred  dollars  a  mile.  Says 
Mr.  Thomas  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  News,  from 
whose  careful  and  elaborate  investigations  this 
summer  and  fall,  I  draw  many  of  the  facts  of  this 
letter : — "  The  facilities  and  opportunities  for  gulch- 
mining  in  this  county  (Summit)  are  equal  if  not  su- 
perior to  any  in  Colorado.  Many  of  the  gulches, 
now  worked,  will  last  for  years  to  come,  while  much 
ground  remains  yet  untouched.  The  Blue  River 
will  pay  for  ten  miles  or  more,  at  the  rate  of  five  to 
ten  dollars  per  day  to  the  man.  Many  places  will 
pay  from  three  to  five  dollars  per  day  to  the  man, 
and  will  be  worked  when  labor  becomes  lower  and 
living  cheaper." 

x-  In  the  Granite  district  of  the  Upper  Arkansas, 
quartz  gold  is  found  in  simple  combinations,  or 
"free,"  as  in  California,  which  can  be  mined  and 
reduced  for  eight  to  ten  dollars  a  ton,  while  it  yields 
from  fifteen  to  one  hundred  dollars ;  but  these  are 
ores  from  near  the  surface,  and  it  is  yet  a  problem 
whether  they  will  not  change  on  getting  clown  in 
the  veins,  as  in  other  Colorado  mines,  and  become 
"  refractory,"  and  impossible  of  working  at  a  profit 
by  any  yet  known  process. 

The  Cinnamon  mines,  just  over  the  southern  bor- 
der in  New  Mexico,  have  attracted  much  attention 


COLORADO  :     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.     155 

for  the  last  two  years.  Several  quartz  mills  are  in 
operation  there,  but  the  main  yield,  so  far,  is  from 
the  gulches,  and  the  total  product  this  year  is 
about  a  quarter  of  a  million  dollars.  San  Luis 
Park,  too,  is  believed  to  be  rich  in  mineral  de- 
posits; some  promising  discoveries  have  already 
been  made  there ;  and  indeed  in  almost  every  quar- 
ter of  the  state  are  the  beginnings  of  developments 
that  inspire  great  faiths,  each  in  its  own  particular 
circle  of  prospectors  and  prophets. 

There  is  apparently  no  limit,  in  fact,  to  the  growth 
of  the  mineral  interests  of  Colorado.  The  product 
this  year  is  from  two  millions  to  two  and  a  half;  next 
year  it  will  be  at  least  a  million  more,  perhaps  a  mil- 
lion and  a  half,  or  four  millions;  and  the  increase 
will  go  on  indefinitely.  For  the  business  is  now 
taken  hold  of  in  the  right  way;  pursued  for  the  most 
part  on  strictly  business  principles;  and  every  year 
must  show  improvements  in  the  ways  and  means  of 
mining  and  treating  the  ores.  The  mountains  are 
just  full  of  ores  holding  fifteen  to  fifty  dollars'  worth 
of  the  metals  per  ton ;  and  the  only  question,  as  to 
the  amount  to  be  got  out,  is  one  of  labor  and  cost 
as  compared  with  the  profits  of  other  pursuits. 

The  settled  population  of  Colorado  is  now  at 
least  fifty  thousand,  perhaps  sixty  thousand.  About 
one-quarter  is  Mexican,  all  in  the  southern  section, 
and  ignorant  and  debased  to  a  shameful  degree. 
The  rest  are  as  good  a  population  as  any  new 
state  can  boast  of.  They  are  drawn  from  all  east- 
ern sources  ;  but  the  New  England  leaven,  though 
possibly  not  the  New  England  personality,  is  domi- 


156  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

nant  in  their  ambition,  their  education,  their  mo- 
rality, their  progressive  spirituality.  The  pioneer 
miners,  the  "prospectors,"  are  a  class  of  characters 
by  themselves.  Properly  they  never  mine  ;  to  dig 
out  and  reduce  ore  is  not  their  vocation ;  but  they 
discover  and  open  mines,  and  sell  them,  if  they 
can ;  at  any  rate  move  on  to  discover  others.  Men 
of  intelligence,  often  cultivated,  generally  hand- 
some, mostly  moral,  high-toned  and  gallant  by 
nature,  sustained  by  a  faith  that  seems  imperish- 
able, putting  their  last  dollar,  their  only  horse,  pos- 
sibly their  best  blanket,  into  a  hole  that  invites 
their  hopes,  working  for  wages  only  to  get  more 
means  to  live  while  they  prospect  anew  and  fur- 
ther, they  suffer  much,  and  yet  enjoy  a  great  deal. 
Faith  is  comfort,  and  that  is  theirs ;  they  will 
"  strike  it  rich "  some  day ;  and  then,  and  not  till 
then,  will  they  go  back  to  the  old  Ohio,  Pennsyl- 
vania or  New  England  homes,  and  cheer  the  fad- 
ing eyes  of  fathers  and  mothers,  and  claim  the 
patient-waiting,  sad-hearted  girls,  to  whom  they 
pledged  their  youthful  loves.  The  vicious  and 
the  loafers,  the  gamblers  and  the  murderers,  have 
mostly  "  moved  on ;"  what  is  left  is  chiefly  golden 
material ;  and  the  men  and  the  mines  and  farms  of 
Colorado,  all  alike  and  together,  are  in  a  healthy 
and  promising  condition,  and  insure  for  her  a  large 
growth  and  a  generous  future.  The  two  things 
she  lacketh  chiefly  now  are  appreciation  at  the 
East  and  women ;  what  she  has  of  both  are  excel- 
lent, but  in  short  supply;  but  the  Railroad  will 
speedily  fill  the  vacuums. 


XII. 

THE   AGRICULTURE   OF  COLORADO. 

The  Farming  Interests  of  Colorado ;  their  Great  Attainment  and 
Greater  Promise — Details  of  the  Harvest  and  of  Prices — Stock- 
Raising — The  Birth  and  Growth  of  Manufactures — The  Colo- 
rado Bread — Coal  and  Iron — Professor  Agassiz  among  the 
Mountains,  looking  after  his  Glaciers — End  of  the  Vacation 
— Summing  Up  of  its  Experiences — Colorado  the  Switzerland 
of  America — How  to  Travel  There. 

DENVER,  Colorado,  September,  1868. 
INEXHAUSTIBLE  as  is  Colorado's  mineral  wealth ; 
progressive  as  henceforth  its  development;  pre- 
dominant and  extensive  as  are  its  mountains ;  high 
even  as  are  its  valleys  arid  plains, — in  spite  of  all 
seeming  impossibilities  and  rivalries,  Agriculture  is 
alre'ady  and  is  destined  always  to  be  its  dominant 
interest.  Hence  my  faith  in  its  prosperity  and  its 
influence  among  the  central  states  of  the  Conti- 
nent. For  agriculture  is  the  basis  of  wealth,  of 
power,  of  morality ;  it  is  the  conservative  element 
of  all  national  and  political  and  social  growth ;  it 
steadies,  preserves,  purifies,  elevates.  Full  one- 
third  of  the  territorial  extent  of  Colorado, — though 
this  third  average  as  high  as  Mount  Washington, 
— is  fit,  more,  rich  for  Agricultural  purposes.  The 


158  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

grains,  the  vegetables  and  the  fruits  of  the  temper- 
ate zone  grow  and  ripen  in  profusion;  and  through 
the  most  of  it,  cattle  and  sheep  can  live  and  fatten 
the  year  around  without  housing  or  feeding.  The 
immediate  valleys  or  bottom  lands  of  the  Arkansas 
and  Platte  and  Rio  Grande  and  their  numerous 
tributaries,  after  they  debouch  from  the  mountains, 
are  of  rich  vegetable  loams,  and  need  no  irrigation. 
The  uplands  or  plains  are  of  a  coarse,  sandy  loam, 
rich  in  the  phosphates  washed  from  the  minerals 
of  the  mountains,  and  are  not  much  in  use  yet  ex- 
cept for  pastures.  When  cultivated,  more  or  less 
irrigation  is  introduced,  and  probably  will  always 
be  indispensable  for  sure  crops  of  roots  and  vege- 
tables; but  for  the  small,  hard  grains,  I  have  no 
idea  it  will  be  generally  found  necessary.  It  is  a 
comparatively  dry  climate,  indeed  ;  but  showers 
are  frequent,  and  extend  over  a  considerable  part 
of  the  spring  and  summer. 

At  a  rough  estimate,  the  agricultural  wealth  of 
Colorado  last  year  was  a  million  bushels  of  corn, 
half  a  million  of  wheat,  half  a  million  of  barley, 
oats  and  vegetables,  50,000  head  of  cattle,  and 
75,000  to  100,000  sheep.  The  increase  this  year  is 
at  least  50  per  cent;  in  the  northern  counties  at 
least  100.  Indeed,  the  agriculture  of  the  northern 
counties,  between  the  Pacific  Railroad-  at  Cheyenne 
and  Denver,  which  has  "grown  to  be  full  half  that 
of  the  whole  state,  is  the  development  almost  en- 
tirely of  the  last  three  years.  South,  in  the  Arkan- 
sas and  Rio  Grande  valleys,  the  farming  and  the 
population  are  older,  going  back  to  before  the  gold 


COLORADO:   ITS  PARKS  AND  MOUNTAINS.    159 

discoveries.  This  is  the  Spanish-Mexican  section, 
and  was  formerly  a  part  of  New  Mexico.  Its  agri- 
culture is  on  a  large  but  rough  scale,  and  only  the 
immense  crops  and  the  simple  habits  of  the  people, 
chiefly  ignorant,  degraded  Mexicans,  permit  it  to 
be  profitable.  The  soil  yields  wonderfully,  north 
and  south.  There  is  authentic  evidence  of  316 
bushels  of  corn  to  the  acre  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Denver  this  season ;  60  to  75  bushels  of  wheat  to 
the  acre  are  very  frequently  reported;  also  250 
bushels  of  potatoes ;  and  60  to  70  of  both  oats  and 
barley.  These  are  exceptional  yields,  of  course, 
and  yet  not  of  single  acres,  but  of  whole  fields,  and 
on  several  farms  in  different  counties.  Probably 
30  bushels  is  the  average  product  of  wheat;  of 
corn  no  more,  for  the  hot  nights  that  corn  loves 
are  never  felt  here ;  of  oats  say  50,  and  of  barley 
40,  for  the  whole  state.  Exhaustion  of  the  virgin 
freshness  of  the  soil  will  tend  to  decrease  these 
averages  in  the  future ;  but  against  that  we  may 
safely  putTmproved  cultivation  and  greater  care  in 

harvesting. 

• 

The  melons  and  vegetables  are  superb ;  quality, 
quantity  and  size  are  alike  unsurpassed  by  any  gar- 
den cultivators  in  the  East.  The  irrigated  gardens 
of  the  upper  parts  of  Denver  fairly  riot  in  growth 
of  fat  vegetables ;  while  the  bottom  lands  of  the 
neighboring  valleys  are  at  least  equally  productive 
without  irrigation.  Think  of  cabbages  weighing 
from  50  to  60  pounds  each !  And  potatoes  from 
5  to  6  pounds,  onions  I  to  2  pounds,  and  beets  6 
to  10!  Yet  here  they  grow,  and  as  excellent  as  big 


l6o  A   SUMMER   VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

Let  me  borrow,  in  further  illustration  of  the  farm- 
ing development  of  this  country,  some  statistics 
of  this  year's  cultivation  in  a  few  of  the  leading 
river  valleys  north  and  south.  They  are  from  Mr. 
Thomas's  personal  collections  for  the  Denver  News : 
The  Cache-a-la-Poudre  is  the  most  northern  side 
valley  of  Colorado,  and  markets  at  Cheyenne;  it 
has  at  least  200,000  acres  of  tillable  lands,  and 
probably  not  5,000  are  in  use  yet ;  but  among  its 
chief  products  this  year  are  25,000  bushels  of  oats, 
5,000  wheat,  5,000  potatoes,  2,500  corn,  2,500  tons 
of  hay,  and  1 5,000  to  20,000  pounds  of  butter.  The 
oat  crop  averaged  48  1-2  bushels  per  acre;  and  the 
cows  have  generally  paid  for  themselves  in  butter 
this  season.  The  Big  Thompson,  another  of  the 
northern  valleys,  has  about  2,000  acres  under  cul- 
tivation, and  yields  this  year  33,000  bushels  po- 
tatoes, with  an  average  of  165  bushels  per  acre  cul- 
tivated ;  27,000  bushels  oats,  8,000  bushels  wheat, 
3,300  bushels  corn,  1,400  tons  hay,  and  7,500  pounds 
of  cheese  from  a  single  dairy.  One  farmer  has  700 
to  800  head  of  cattle,  a,nd  100  to  200  horses  and 
colts.  In  the  Platte  valley,  for  sixty  miles  north 
of  Denver,  or  to  the  mouth  of  Cache-a-la-Poudre, 
there  were  raised  this  year  15,000  bushels  wheat, 
27,000  bushels  oats,  5,000  bushels  barley,  3,000 
bushels  corn,  7,000  bushels  potatoes,  and  1,500  tons 
of  hay,  and  about  23,000  pounds  of  butter  made.  In 
the  valley  of  the  Platte,  south  of  Denver,  twenty 
miles  long,  there  are  3,000  acres  under  cultivation, 
nearly  half  in  wheat,  and  a  quarter  in  oats,  with 
crops  of  barley  at  66  bushels  to  the  acre,  of  wheat 


COLORADO  I     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.     l6l 

70,  and  of  oats  65,  and  the  average  being  30  to  35 
of  wheat,  35  to  40  of  oats  and  barley.  Bear  Creek, 
just  south  of  Denver,  has  1,225  acres  cultivated, 
divided  about  as  those  of  the  Platte  are.  In  the 
main  valley  of  the  Arkansas  are  nearly  6,000  acres 
of  cultivated  land,  half  corn,  and  a  third  wheat ;  in 
Fontaine  qui  Bouille,  a  branch  of  the  Arkansas, 
also  6,000,  with  almost  exactly  the  same  division 
among  crops.  The  St.  Charles,  another  tributary, 
cultivates  1,500  acres,  half  corn,  a  third  wheat,  the 
rest  oats.  In  the  Huerfana  valley,  still  another  trib- 
utary of  the  Arkansas,  are  5,000  acres  under  tillage, 
with  the  usual  southern  division,  corn  largely  dom- 
inating, and  here  are  some  of  the  largest  farms  in 
the  state,  ranging  up  to  1,500  acres  in  cultivation, 
and  so  requiring  but  few  farmers  to  make  up  the 
total.  In  this  valley,  the  corn  crop  averages  from 
30  to  50  bushels  the  acre,  wrheat  20  to  40,  and  oats 
40  to  45.  These  are  but  specimens  of  twice  as 
many  valleys  above  and  below  Denver,  in  which 
farming  has  been  begun,  but  only  begun,  yet  with 
such  profitable  results  as  insure  rapid  development. 
I  now  quote  the  prices  of  agricultural  produce 
this  week  at  Denver ;  they  will  be  likely  to  recede 
as  the  crops  come  into  market :  Barley  3c.  a  pound, 
corn  3  1-2  to  4  i-2c.,  cheese  20  to  22c.,  corn  meal  5c., 
eggs  50  to  6oc.  a  dozen,  flour  $7  to  9  a  sack  of  100 
pounds,  oats  30.  a  pound,  potatoes  2  to  30.  a  pound, 
fresh  tomatoes  30.  a  pound,  wheat  3  3-40.  a  pound, 
cabbages  ic.  a  pound,  butter  45  c.  a  pound  retail, 
chickens  $5.50  a  dozen,  "good  beef  12  to  150.  a 
pound.  At  Cheyenne,  on  the  Pacific  Railroad, 


1 62  A    SUMMER   VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

prices  are  somewhat  higher, — like  these,  for  in- 
stance, for  vegetables :  Cabbages  6  to  8c.  a  pound, 
onions  6  to  Sc.  a  pound,  turnips  2  to  40.  a  pound, 
beets  5  to  7c.  a  pound,  tomatoes  20  to  250.  a 
pound,  squashes  4  to  70.  a  pound,  cucumbers  40  to 
5oc.  a  dozen.  Beef  is,  on  the  whole,  the  cheapest 
grown  and  the  cheapest  selling  food  here.  It  costs 
about  half  the  New  York  and  Boston  retail  prices. 

Stock-raising  on  the  Plains  is  simple  and  profit- 
able business.  The  animals  can  roam  at  will,  and 
a  single  man  can  tend  hundreds.  The  only  enemies 
are  the  Indians  and  the  diseases  that  the  Texas 
cattle  bring  up  from  the  South.  But  the  former 
are  the  great  evil ;  the  confusion,  danger  and  loss 
they  have  created  this  season  sum  up  a  serious 
blow  not  only  to  stock-raising,  but  to  all  farming. 
Even  if  the  evil  is  suppressed  hereafter,  this  sea- 
son's raids  are  a  year's  loss  to  the  agricultural  in- 
terests of  Colorado.  Many  farmers  have  given 
up  in  despair  from  danger  and  disaster,  and  re- 
tired from  the  field ;  others  hesitate  and  refuse  to 
come,  who  otherwise  would  be  here  at  once  and 
in  force  of  capital  and  energy,  to  enter  upon  the 
business. 

These  great  interests  of  mining  and  farming 
shade  naturally  into  others,  and  already  there  are 
the  beginnings  of  various  manufacturing  develop- 
ments, as  there  are  the  materials  and  incentives  for 
such  undertakings  without  stint.  Some  fifteen  or 
twenty ,  flouring-mills  are  in  operation  throughout 
the  state.  The  Colorado  wheat  makes  a  rich  hearty 
flour,  bearing  a  creamy  golden  tinge ;  and  I  have 


COLORADO  I     ITS    PARKS    AND    MOUNTAINS.     163 

eaten  no  where  else  in  America  better  bread  than 
is  made  from  it.  There  is  a  baker  in  Georgetown, 
whose  products  are  as  rich  and  light  as  the  best  of 
German  wheat  bread.  The  wheat  will  rank  with 
the  very  best  that  America  produces,  and  is  more 
like  the  California  grain  than  that  of  "the  States.'* 
Coal  mines  are  abundant,  and  several  are  being 
profitably  wrorked  along  the  lower  range  of  the 
mountains;  as,  indeed,  they  have  been  found  and 
opened  at  intervals  along  the  line  of  the  Pacific 
Railroad  over  the  mountains,  and  are  already  sup- 
plying its  engines  with  a  most  excellent  fuel, — a 
hard,  dry,  brown  coal,  very  pure  and  free-burning ; 
in  Boulder  valley  and  Golden  City,  iron  is  being 
manufactured  from  native  ore;  at  Golden  City, 
there  is  a  successful  manufactory  of  pottery  ware 
and  fire  brick ;  also  a  paper-mill  and  a  tannery, 
and  three  flouring-mills ;  the  state  already  supplies 
its  own  salt;  soda  deposits  are  abundant  every- 
where, and  will  be  a  great  source  of  wealth ;  woolen 
mills  are  projected  and  greatly  needed,  as  wool- 
growing  is  the  simplest  of  agricultural  pursuits 
here ;  a  valuable  tin  mine  has  been  lately  discov- 
ered and  its  value  proved,  up  in  the  mountains ; 
and  next  year  the  Railroad  will  be  one  of  Colora- 
do's possessions,  and  bring  harmony  and  unity  and 
healthy  development  to  all  her  growth,  social,  ma- 
terial, and  political.  Also,  by  that  time  she  will  be 
a  state,  and  so  responsible  for  her  own  government, 
be  it  good  or  bad. 

As  we  go  out,  Professor  Agassiz  leads  a  new 
party  of  eastern  notables  from  over  the  Plains  and 


164  A    SUMMER   VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

into  the  Mountains.  He  is  already  seething  with 
enthusiasm  ;  all  Brazil  was  nothing,  he  says,  to  what 
he  has  seen  of  natural  beauty  and  scientific  revela- 
tion in  crossing  the  Plains ;  but  the  half  is  not  told 
him.  When  he  comes  face  to  face  with  the  moun- 
tains,— the  mountains  in  perfection  and  the  moun- 
tains in  ruin, — and  their  phenomena  of  parks  and 
wealth  of  verdure,  then  indeed  he  may  feel  he  is 
among  the  "  Gardens  of  the  Gods/'  The  professor 
finds  abundant  materials  to  sustain  his  wide-spread 
glacial  theories ;  all  these  vast  elevated  plains,  from 
Missouri  River  to  Mountains,  from  Montana  to 
Mexico, — the  very  heart  of  the  Continent, — are  but 
in  his  eye  the  deposit  of  great  fields  of  ice,  stretch- 
ing down  from  these  hills  and  washing  down  their 
hights.  What  must  they  have  been  once  to  have 
lost  so  much  and  remain  so  Titanesque ! — to  be 
still  the  Mother  Mountains  of  the  Continent? 


Here  rests  the  record  of  our  Summer  Vacation 
in  the  Rocky  Mountains.  The  stage  ride  back  to 
Cheyenne, — now  hardened  to  long  journeys  and 
open  air  life, — was  a  long  eighteen  hours'  pleasure 
under  warm  sun  and  cool  stars  ;  and  we  tumbled  into 
the  tender  berths  of  Pullman's  palace  car,  waiting 
on  the  railroad  track,  at  three  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, with  a  keen  gratitude  to  Colorado  and  all  its 
kind  friends  for  what  rare  joy  of  new  experience  and 
rich  hospitality  they  had  given  us,  and  as  keen  a 
welcome  to  steam  locomotion,  beds,  and  the  near 
home.  Two  days  of  the  Pacific  and  the  North- 
western Railroads  brought  us  to  Chicago,  and  there 


COLORADO:   ITS  PARKS  AND  MOUNTAINS.    165 

we  separated,  as  we  gathered,  about  the  hospitable 
tables  of  Governor  Bross. 

Life  was  fresher  to  all  of  us,  new  to  some,  for  the 
health  and  the  sentiment  of  the  thin  pure  air  of  the 
Mountains  and  the  Parks*  Their  skies  and  their 
waters  repeat  the  fabled  fountain  of  perpetual  youth. 
It  is  to  them  that  America  will  go,  as  Europe  to 
Switzerland,  for  rest  and  recreation,  for  new  and 
exhilarating  scenes,  for  pure  and  bracing  air,  for 
pleasure  and  for  health.  They  offer  no  wonderful 
valley  like  the  Yo  Semite ;  no  continental  river 
breaking  through  continental  mountains  like  the 
Columbia;  no  cataract  like  Niagara;  no  forests 
like  those  of  the  Sierra  Nevada  range,  no  nor  the 
equals,  in  diversified  form  and  color  and  species, 
of  those  of  New  England  or  of  Pennsylvania;  and 
yet  I  am  greatly  mistaken  if  the  verdict  of  more 
familiar  acquaintance  by  the  American  people  with 
America  is  not,  that  here, — among  these  central 
ranges  of  continental  mountains  and  these  great 
companion  parks,  within  this  wedded  circle  of  ma- 
jestic hill  and  majestic  plain,  under  these  skies  of 
purity,  and  in  this  atmosphere  of  elixir,  lies  the 
pleasure-ground  and  health-home  of  the  nation. 

Smoother  ways  will  soon  be  provided,  but  no 
philosophic  or  accustomed  traveler  need  wait  for 
them.  The  true  aroma  of  the  country  is  to  be 
found  in  the  saddle  and  in  the  camp.  It  is  not 
necessary  to  travel  with  such  numbers  and  with 
such  protection  of  authority  as  was  our  fortune. 
A  smaller  party,  more  independent  of  time  and 
circumstances,  is  on  many  accounts  even  more 


1 66  A    SUMMER    VACATION    IN    CAMP. 

desirable.  If  of  men  purely,  four  to  eight  is  a  fit 
number  for  an  expedition ;  if  the  two  sexes  are 
combined,  about  double  these  limits  will  be  found  1 
desirable.  We  met  in  the  Middle  Park  a  young 
man  from  Yale  college,  who  was  making  a  thorough 
journey  of  two  months  through  the  Mountains 
and  Parks  without  any  companions  but  such  as  he 
picked  up  from  day  to  day  or  week  to  week.  He 
had  bought  a  pony  and  blankets  and  coffee-pot 
in  Denver,  and  for  the  rest  bargained  for  his 
daily  rations  en  route,  stopping  for  the  night  at 
ranches  and  hotels  where  he  found  them,  and  in 
cabins  or  tents,  if  the  doors  were  open  and  there  • 
was  room,  and  under  a  hospitable  tree  when  all 
else  was  denied  him. 

August  is  the  best  month  to  come,  for  that  is  near- 
est summer  in  the  high  mountains;  the  streams  are 
lower,  purer  and  more  readily  forded ;  the  weather 
most  uniformly  clear.     But  any  time  from  June  15 
to  September  15  will  answer  for  visiting  either  or 
both  the  great  Parks  ;  and  I  beg  every  "Across  the 
Continent"  traveler  to  give  at  least  a  week  and  if 
possible  a  month  to  the  interior  regions  of  Colorado.  1 
But  do  not  come  unless  you  will  visit  one  of  the  1 
Parks  at  least,  go  over  one  or  two  of  the  high  1 
passes,  and  ascend  either  Gray's  Peak  or  Mount  I 
Lincoln.     Else  you  will  discredit  my  enthusiasm,  J 
and  deny  yourself  when  you  talk  of  having  seen  j 
Colorado. 


By  the  Same  A^U^^OT. 


Across  the  Continent: 

A    STAGE   RIDE   OVER    THE  PLAINS 

TO  THE   ROCKY  MOUNTAINS,  THE  MORMONS, 
AND  THE  PACIFIC  STATES, 

IN   THE   SUMMER   OF    1865, 

WITH    SPEAKER     COLFAX. 


BY  SAMUEL  BOWLES, 

Editor  of  the  Springfield  (Mass.)  Repitblican. 


A  volume  of  400  pages — price  $1.50. 


The  opening  of  the  Pacific  Railroad  widens  and  deepens  the  in- 
terest in  the  interior  and  Pacific  States  of  our  Republic,  and  has 
created  a  new  demand  for  this  popular  record  of  travel  to  and 
through  them  four  years  ago.  It  is  still  the  most  pleasant  and 
faithful  guide  for  all  travel  to  the  Mountains  and  the  Pacific  States. 

A  new  and  revised  edition  of  the  book  has  therefore  been  pub- 
lished, uniform  in  style  and  binding  with  this  volume,  and  at  the 
reduced  price  of  $1.50.  Copies  sent  by  mail,  postage  paid,  on 
receipt  of  that  sum  by  SAMUEL  BOWLES  &  COMPANY, 
Springfield,  Mass. ;  and  the  Trade  will  be  supplied,  as  heretofore, 
through  KURD  &  HOUGHTON,  New  York. 


Front  the  New  York  Times. 

HJr,  Bowles's  "  ACROSS  THE  CONTINENT  "  is  the  ablest  and  most  valuable  report 
ever  made  of  the  characteristics  of  the  Western  and  Pacific  portions  of  our  Union. 

Front  the  Boston  Transcript. 
This  is  one  of  the  most  popular  books  of  American  travel  for  years. 

From  the  Philadelphia  Age. 
It  is  the  best  record  of  travel  that  has  emanated  from  an  American  pen  during 

the  present  century. 

From  the  Nation,  New  York. 

We  venture  to  say  that  to  nine  persons  out  of  every  ten  into  whose  hands  it 
falls,  this  volume  will  have  almost  as  much  of  the  charm  of  novelty  as  Palgrave's 
"Arabia."  Mr.  Bowles  is  never  dull  and  never  commonplace;  is  very  often 
really  eloquent.  His  observations  on  the  moral  and  material  condition  and  pros- 


Across  the  Continent. 


pects  of  the  communities  through  which  he  passes  are  always  acute,  in  the  great 
majority  of  cases  original,  and  often  profound.  His  descriptions  of  scenery  are 
admirable,  and  he  has  the  rare  gift  of  knowing  when  he  has  given  the  reader 
enough  of  them.  There  is  no  other  account  of  the  Yo  Semite  Valley,  or  of  the 
scenery  and  atmospheric  effects  of  the  plains  and  mountains  and  rivers  of  the 
Western  Coast,  which  can  at  all  compare  to  his.  We  cordially  recommend  every- 
body who  wants  a  most  valuable  contribution  to  the  social  and  political  philosophy 
of  the  day,  in  the  form  of  one  of  the  most  entertaining  records  of  travel  we  have 
ever  lighted  upon,  to  buy  and  read  this  book.  We  have  ourselves  closed  it  with 
sincere  regret  that  there  was  not  more  of  it. 

Front  the  London  A  nglo-A  merican  Times. 

Dr.  Livingstone  has  written  of  equatorial  Africa ;  Captain  Speke  of  the  Nile ; 
Mr.  Cameron  of  the  Eastern  Archipelago ;  and  Madame  Pfceffer  of  a  voyage 
round  the  world ;  but  no  author,  either  English  or  foreign,  has  ever  produced  a 
book  of  travel  of  more  absorbing  interest  than  that  now  before  us.  It  is  certainly 
a  remarkable  book — remarkable  not  only  for  the  clear  insight  it  gives  us  of  that 
immense  and  almost  boundless  region  traversed  by  the  writer,  but  for  the  charm- 
ing ease,  grace,  and  fluency  with  which  he  tells  his  story.  We  know  something 
of  the  greatness  of  the  American  Republic,  but  we  acknowledge  that  we  never 
experienced  so  profound  a  sense  of  the  unlimited  resources,  the  boundless  wealth, 
and  the  grand  destiny  of  that  country  as  we  have  done  since  reading  this  work. 
We  advise  all  Americans  who  desire  to  know  more  of  their  own  country,  as  well 
as  all  Englishmen  who  wish  clear  information  regarding  America,  to  peruse  it. 

From  the  San  Francisco ',  Col.,  B^dletin. 

As  a  record  of  travel  it  is  admirable  beyond  praise.  It  is  crowded  with  infor- 
mation, given  in  a  style  so  fresh  and  piquant  that  even  the  most  commonplace 
facts  are  made  palatable.  Mr.  Bowles  relates  his  experience  so  pleasantly,  so 
genially,  so  free  from  the  taint  of  snobbery  and  affectation,  that  it  refreshes  one  to 
read  him.  He  appears  to  be  overrunning  with  vitality.  His  style  is  a  model  of 
graceful  English — polished  yet  pointed— elegant,  yet  bristling  with  pith  and  an- 
tithesis. 

From  the  Paris  Correspondence  of  the  New  York  Tribune. 

See,  in  proof,  that  quintessentially  American  book  of  Samuel  Bowies',  the  racy 
book  of  his  letters,  written  cnrrente  calamo,  "  ACROSS  THE  CONTINENT."  None 
but  an  American  could  have  written  it.  None  but  a  graduate  of  a  New  England 
school-house  could  have  so  written  it ;  so  vividly,  so  sj^mpathetically,  so  artistically, 
even.  Its  classically  literary  defects  are  its  realistic  merits,  regarded  merely  from 
the  point  of  view  of  art.  Verily,  one  need  read  that  volume  this  side  of  the  water 
to  relish,  to  sense  at  their  full  quality,  to  appreciate  with  justly  complete  thankful- 
ness, its  special  and  eminent  choice  American  bouquet. 

From  the  Boston  Advertiser. 

Its  striking  descriptions  of  California  life,  of  the  wonders  of  Yo  Semite  Valley 
and  of  the  Big  Trees,  of  the  noble  charms  of  Oregon,  and  his  appreciative  observ- 
ations on  the  growth  of  the  national  life  among  and  beyond  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
carry  the  reader  in  imagination  into  a  region  where  all  accustomed  ideas  and 
scenes  seem  poor  by  constrast.  We  have  seen  no  discussion  of  the  Mormon  ques- 
tion which  appears  more  sound,  while  there  certainly  is  none  more  authentic  and 
trustworthy. 


By  the  Same  Author. 


THE  HARTFORD  PUBLISHING  COMPANY  issue  in  March,  1869— 
to  be  sold  by  subscription  only — a  fine  large  royal  octavo  volume 
of  five  hundred  pages,  combining  the  chief  materials  of  "  Across 
the  Continent "  and  "  Colorado :  its  Parks  and  Mountains,"  and 
much  new  and  valuable  matter, — entitled : — 

Our     New    West. 

RECORDS  OF  TRAVEL 

BETWEEN    THE    MISSISSIPPI    RIVER    AND    THE 
PACIFIC    OCEAN. 

OVER     THE    PLAINS— OVER     THE     MOUNTAINS— THROUGH 

THE   GREAT  INTERIOR   BASIN— OVER    THE   SIERRA 

NEVADAS-TO    AND     UP    AND    DOIVN 

THE    PACIFIC    COAST. 

WITH 

DETAILS   OF  THE  WONDERFUL   NATURAL    SCENERY,  AGRICULTURE, 

MINES,  SOCIAL   LIFE,  PROGRESS  AND   PROSPECTS 

OF 

COLORADO,    WYOMING,    UTAH,     IDAHO,    MONTANA,    NEVADA, 

CALIFORNIA,    OREGON,    WASHINGTON,    AND 

BRITISH     COLUMBIA  ; 

Including  the  Mormons ,  the  Indians,  and  the  Chinese. 


BY  SAMUEL   BOWLES, 

EDITOR  OF  THE  SPRINGFIELD  (MASS.)  REPUBLICAN. 


This  volume  will  contain  new  steel  engraved  portraits  of  the  author  and  his 
traveling  companions,  Vice-President  Colfax,  and  Governor  Bross ;  a  comprehen- 
sive but  complete  Map ;  and  sixteen  full  page  illustrations  of  the  scenery,  the 
cities,  and  the  characters  described  in  the  text, — all  drawn  and  engraved  expressly 
for  this  book. 

The  whole  will  present  the  most  complete,  graphic,  authentic  and  freshly-drawn 
account,  yet  offered  to  the  public,  of  Our  New  West  of  America,  in  which  the 
opening  of  the  Pacific  Railroad  has  stimulated  and  spread  so  wide  an  interest. 

The  price  of  the  volume — which  is  produced  in  the  finest  style  of  the  typographic 
art — is  $3.00.  Persons  wishing  copies,  or  desiring  to  act  as  agents  for  its  sale,  will 
address  the  Publishers :— HARTFORD  PUBLISHING  CO.,  Hartford,  Conn. ; 
or,  J.  D.  DENNISON,  New  York ;  or,  J.  A.  STODDARD,  Chicago,  111. 


Daily,  Semi-Weekly,  and  Weekly. 

The   Springfield   Republican, 

A  NEW  ENGLAND  FAMILY  JOURNAL 

OF 

News,  Politics,  Literature   and    Social    Life. 

PUBLISHED   BY 

SAMUEL  BOWLES   &   COMPANY, 
SPRINGFIELD,  MASS. 


To  picture  the  progress  of  the  varied  and  busy  life  of  New  England,  as  to  rep- 
resent its  inquisitive  and  active  thought  on  all  questions  that  concern  the  comfort 
and  the  elevation  of  society ;  to  make,  indeed,  a  part  of  that  life  and  that  thought, 
— this  is  the  scope  and  aim  of  THE  SPRINGFIELD  REPUBLICAN  newspaper.  Con- 
fessedly it  has  become  the  most  representative  and  comprehensive  of  New  England 
journals ;  as  a  record  of  its  news,  for  home  use  or  foreign  enlightenment ;  as  an  expo- 
nent of  its  best  thought,  most  intelligent,  candid  and  advanced,  on  questions  of  po- 
litical and  religious  liberty  and  progress,  of  social  order  and  development,  and  of 
literary  and  art  culture ; — and  it  is  the  ambition  and  effort  of  its  conductors  to  main- 
tain and  extend  this  leadership,  to  still  more  elevate  and  widen  the  character  of  the 
paper,  and  to  vary  and  enlarge  its  interest  and  usefulness  for  all  classes  of  our  people. 

The^prominent  features  of  THE  REPUBLICAN,  as  a  Newspaper  and  Family  Jour- 
nal, are,  completeness  and  promptness,  intelligence  and  system  in  the  preparation 
and  publication  pf  News  of  every  description — seeking  to  give  not  only  the  fact 
but  the  meaning  and  moral  of  every  eveat ;  free,  candid  and  piquant  Editorial 
Discussions  of  all  public  occurrences,  men  and  things ;  intelligent  .and  independ- 
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•Literary,  Art  and  Religious  worlds;  Stories,  Sketches,  Essays,  Poetry,  bits  of 
Biography,  Science,  Agriculture,  Mechanics,  etc.,  from  original  contributors,  or 
from  the  choicest  magazines  and  literary  journals  of  America  and  Europe.  No 
other  newspaper  proper  gives  so  much  space  as  THE  REPUBLICAN  to  all  this  latter 
wide  variety  of  Literary  and  Family  Reading.  DR.  J.  G'.  HOLLAND  (Timothy  Tit- 
comb)  is  writing  letters  from  Europe  for  THE  REPUBLICAN  ;  and  "  WARRINGTON  " 
(W.  S.  Robinson)  contributes  regularly  to  its  columns  from  Boston, 

THE  WEEKLY  REPUBLICAN  is  becoming  more  and  more  a  general  Family 
Political,  Social  and  Literary  Journal.  Its  full  and  intelligent  Review  of  the 
Week,  its  page  of  especial  New  England  items,  and  its  two  columns  of  financial, 
commercial  and  market  affairs  furnish  its  readers  all  that  is  wanting  in  the  way  of 
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reading.  Its  circulation  is  rapidly  extending,  not  only  throughout  New  England, 
but  all  over  the  country ;  first,  as  the  best  compiler  of  local  New  England  news ; 
second,  as  the  best  representative  of  nationalized  New  England  opinion ;  and, 
third,  as  a  generous  collection  of  the  best  current  literature  of  the  day. 

THE  DAILY  REPUBLICAN  is  published  three  times  a  week,  and  the  SEMI- 
WEEKLY  and  WEEKLY,  regularly,  on  a  large  double  sheet  of  eight  pages  and  48 
columns.  Their  circulation  is  unprecedented  in  the  history  of  provincial  journal- 
ism. No  papers  out  of  the  largest  cities  have  so  large  or  wide-spread  a  reading. 
This  enables  the  proprietors  to  afford  the  several  issues  at  prices  as  low  as  any 
and  lower  than  most  of  its  contemporaries.  While  most  first-class  daily  news- 
papers are  sold  at  four  and  five  cents  a  copy  and  $10  and  $12  a  year,  THE  DAILY 
REPUBLICAN  is  furnished  at  three  cents  and  $8  a  year;  THE  SEMI-WEEKLY  at  $4 
a  year,  or  $3  in  clubs ;  and  THE  WEEKLY  at  $2,  or  $1.75  in  clubs. 


Printing — Binding — Blank  Books — Albums. 
SAMUEL   BOWLES  &  COMPANY, 

SPRINGFIELD,     MASS., 


OWN  AND  CONDUCT  AN  EXTENSIVE 


Book  and  Job -Printing   Office, 

BOOK    BINDERY, 

AND 

BLANK    BOOK    MANUFACTORY, 

INCLUDING  AN 

ELECTROTYPING    ESTABLISHMENT    AND    A    MANU- 
FACTORY   OF    PHOTOGRAPH    ALBUMS. 


THEIR  establishment  occupies  one  of  the  largest  buildings  on  Main  street, 
Springfield,  and,  in  capacity  and  completeness,  has  no  superior  in  all  New 
England.  .* 

They  run  twenty-five  different  Printing  Presses,  between  fifty  and  sixty  ma- 
chines of  all  kinds,  and  employ  nearly  three  hundred  workmen  and  women. 

Every  description  of  Printing,  from  Cards  and  Handbills  to  Books ;  from  the 
simplest  and  plainest  to  the  most  intricate,  elegant  and  costly. 

BINDING  of  all  sorts  and  in  every  style. 

BLANK  BOOKS  of  every  fashion,  made  to  order,  or  on  sale,  wholesale  and 
retail. 

PHOTOGRAPH  ALBUMS,  from  25  cents  to  $25  each,  singly  or  by  the  quantity, 
by  mail  or  express,  at  lowest  manufacturers'  prices. 

BOOKS  stereotyped,  printed,  bound  and  published. 
.    LEGAL  BLANKS  printed  to  order,  or  on  sale  in  any  quantity. 

In  brief,  all  Job  Work  and  Manufacturing  ever  done  in  Printing  Office  and 
Bindery,  is  performed  at  this  establishment,  promptly,  of  the  best  materials,  by 
the  best  of  workmen,  and  in  the  best  manner  known  in  either  art. 

Orders  by  mail  as  faithfully  attended  to  as  those  left  in  person. 


* 

PATENT    COUNTING-ROOM  CALENDAR. 

MESSRS.  BOWLES  &  COMPANY  manufacture  this,  the  most  convenient  Counting- 
House  Calendar  in  use,  which  is  also  a  desirable  means  of  advertising,  for  Insur- 
ance Companies,  Bankers,  Merchants,  and  business  men  generally.  Orders  filled 
at  short  notice,  in  lots  of  from  500  to  50,000,  with  the  business  cards  of  parties 
ordering  on  each  leaf,  printed  in  such  a  manner  that  the  advertisements  cannot  be 
detached  and  destroyed  as  long  as  the  Calendar  is  in  use. 

. 


Publications  of  Samuel  Bowles  &  Company. 


The  Mines  of  Colorado, 

BY  O.  J.  HOLLISTER, 

Late  Editor  and  Proprietor  of  the  Colorado  Mining  Journal,  and  Editor  of 
the  Rocky  Mountain  News* 

This  is  a  popular  work  on  COLORADO,  the  aim  of  which  is  to  give  all  the  in- 
formation possible  about  that  interesting  country.  It  is  historical,  descriptive  and 
statistical ;  gives  a  history  of  the  discovery  of  gold,  the  early  settlement  and  de- 
velopment of  civilization  in  the  Rocky  Mountains;  describes  the  physical  peculi- 
arities of  the  country,  its  climate  and  capacity,  its  resources  and  productions, 
especially  in  mining ;  and  has  voluminous  and  authentic  statistics  with  regard  to 
the  present  condition  of  the  mines,  the  nature  of  the  vein-stones,  methods  of  treat- 
ment of  the  ores,  names  of  mining  companies,  etc.,  etc. 

Four  Hundred  and  Fifty  pages,  duodecimo,  with  a  large  and  well  defined  Map 
of  the  Territory;  price  $2. 


EMERSON'S 

New    Internal    Revenue   Guide, 

AN  INDISPENSABLE   MANUAL  FOR  ALL  REVENUE  OFFICERS, 
AND  VALUABLE  TO  EVERY  TAX-PAYER, 

Containing  an  Annotated  Edition  of  THE  NEW  INTER^L  REVENUE 
ACT,  imposing  Taxes  on  Distilled  Spirits  and  Tobacco,  and  for  other  purposes, 
passed  July,  1868.  Also,  the  Act  exempting  certain  manufactures  from  Internal 
Tax,  together  with  a  Guide  and  Hand-Book  to  all  the  Internal  Revenue  Laws 
now  in  force.  Edited  and  Annotated  by  CHARLES  N.  EMERSON,  Counselor- 
at-Law  and  Assessor  Tenth  Massachusetts  District. 
Medium  Octavo.  Paper  Covers.  Price  50  cents. 


The  above  books,  sent  by  mail,  postage  paid,  on  receipt  of  the  price  annexed. 

SAMUEL  BOWLES  &  COMPANY, 

SPRINGFIELD,  MASS. 


-  -  .     '•      — ^ 

14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below, 
or  on  the  date  to  which  renewed.  Renewals  only: 

TeL  No.  642-3405 

Renewals  may  be  made  4  days  prior  to  date  due. 
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